


Falling Together

by argentoswan



Category: Sanders Sides, Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-07-28 00:51:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16230794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentoswan/pseuds/argentoswan
Summary: Virgil has a few uncomfortable discoveries and doesn't quite know what to do with his emotions. The others aren't very good at helping him.“How do you know if you’re in love?”“It’s different for everyone,” Logan said. "Why do you ask?"“Just curious,” Virgil repeated.





	1. Chapter 1

“Checkmate.” Logan didn’t even have the dignity to be smug about it. He said it with an air of boredom, lips drawn back in a drawl. On the other side of the coffee table, Roman sat up on his knees and stared down at the chessboard set up between them.

“Logan wins again!” chirped Patton from the sofa.

“Defeat has not yet been conceded,” Roman declared, although a frown line was growing between his eyes.

Virgil scrolled through his MP3 player, supremely uninterested in the battle of wits (or half-wits, in Prince’s case) that had been raging in front of him for the past ten minutes. It was their fifth match of that day, and none of them had lasted very long. Virgil just wanted this one to end so he could finally make up some excuse to retreat back to his room.

“You have no other moves,” Logan said, idly checking the state of his nails. “And I’ve taken all of your knights, so you are unable to attempt and jailbreak the king again. Which, might I add, is definitely not in the rules of the game.”

Roman frowned and pushed the board away from him. The pieces clattered against the wood. “Another round!”

“You and Logan have played so much,” Patton said. He had his cat onesie on and a fuzzy blanket drawn up to his chin. He turned to beam at Virgil sitting on the other end of the couch. “Do you wanna play, Virgil?”

“No,” Virgil said without looking up from his screen.

“We can play a different game then!” Patton said. “Maybe checkers?”

“Boring,” said Roman.

“Twister?”

“Brutish,” said Logan with a roll of his eyes.

“Do you have any suggestions, Virgil?”

“No.”

Patton beamed despite the onslaught of negativity. “We can bake brownies, then! I have some chocolate chips in the kitchen.”

“I quite like pastries,” Roman said.

“Terribly unhealthy,” Logan said, “but better than prior suggestions.”

“Virgil?” Patton turned his hopeful gaze onto Virgil, who felt characteristic guilt squeezing at his heart.

He knew he should say yes, because this was Patton, and Patton had never been anything but nice to him. But out of the corner of his eye he saw Roman and Logan look at each other across the fallen chess pieces, and a much more primitive self preservation kicked in.

“I think I’m going to just head back to my room,” he said. “You guys have fun, though.”

“Aw, come on,” Patton said. “We’ll let you lick the spoon.”

“Salmonella,” Logan said with a warning tone.

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Virgil said. He raised his fingers in a mock salute as he hopped out of his seat. “Thanks for letting me watch Logan kick Princey’s ass five times.”

“Excuse me, Finding Emo, but I would quite like to see you try and compete with the _ logical  _ side in a game of chess,” Roman said, crossing his arms.

“Nah,” Virgil said. “I, unlike you, have a bit of dignity to spare.”

Roman sputtered as Virgil sank out of sight. “Come out later for brownies!” Patton called after him.

Virgil reappeared in his bedroom and felt an immediate wash of relief settle over him. He had spent far too much time attempting to socialize lately. He had been invited out for meals and movie nights and games, and although there was an attention-starved part of him that cherished every knock on his door, he knew this was only a temporary spurt of interest. He had disappeared on them last week, left them reeling without what they had discovered was an integral part of Thomas’s personality. On top of all of that, they had  _ just  _ learned his name. It made sense that they had thrown themselves into a pseudo “friendship” with him in the wake of all of this change, but once they realized that they were in no danger of a repeat disappearance act, they would all go back to their regularly scheduled programming. Virgil would never leave again, not after seeing what it had done to Thomas.

He popped in his other earbud and let waves of My Chemical Romance wash over him. His bedroom was monochrome and dark, and as he sat down on his bed he allowed himself to feel comfortable for the first time in hours. It was exhausting trying to play nice with the other sides. Before, he would have spent days in his room without coming out, only emerging when called for a video or to be accused of causing some kind of life crisis for Thomas. He had been comfortable with that routine.

Now he found himself constantly being tugged out of his comfort zone, and it was getting to him. Where insomnia would normally set in, exhaustion took its place; Virgil leaned back against his pillows and shut his eyes, letting the music drift over him and lull him into a shallow sleep.

When he woke up later it was to disorientation and the faint smell of brownies. His music had stopped playing. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes, and pulled his earbuds out. For a moment he just sat there, blinking to wake himself up and sniffing at the air. After weighing the pros and cons of leaving his room (pros being brownies, cons being social interaction) he decided that he could just make a quick run for the pastries.

He rolled out of bed and onto his feet, tucking his MP3 player into the pocket of his hoodie, and walked over to the door. Outside, the commons were empty, but he could hear faint sounds coming from the kitchen. He crept forward, intending to stay quiet so he could pop out of nowhere and frighten Roman- and then he stopped.

He could just barely see into the kitchen. Patton was cheerfully scraping brownie batter out of a bowl and into a pan. Behind him, a rack on the kitchen counter held an already cooked and cooling batch. Roman was loudly humming a song from Cinderella, and as Virgil watched, he reached out and took Logan’s hand, and to Virgil’s surprise, Logan just rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be swept into a graceful dance. Roman pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his waist as he spun him around the kitchen. Logan allowed himself to be twirled with a small huff of a laugh. 

Patton set down the bowl and dunked his finger into the brownie batter quickly, secretly. “You look just like a prince and princess,” he said, licking it off.

“Now, Patton, we all know that  _ you  _ are the princess here,” Roman declared. He released Logan and grabbed at Patton’s hands. Patton shrieked in delight as Roman spun him, cardigan flapping behind him.

“Roman,” he giggled. Logan leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, a small smile on his face.

Virgil took a step back, then another. He felt like an intruder. An intruder on a happy scene, one much more intimate than he had expected, but he couldn’t look away, not even when Roman leaned down and pressed a kiss onto the tip of Patton’s nose. Patton giggled again and turned his face to hide his blush, and that’s when his eyes met Virgil’s.

“Virgil!” Patton called with a smile. Roman stopped dancing and looked, a surprised expression on his face. “We were just about to put the second batch of brownies in. Would you like to try one?”

“Um,” Virgil said, hyper aware of Roman and Logan exchanging a look over Patton’s head. Oh, god, he had broken up such a domestic, happy scene, and even though he didn’t quite understand it, his chest was constricting with embarrassment. “No thanks.”

“But we have plenty! You can help us with the rest.”

“No, really,” Virgil said. He gestured over his shoulder. “I’m going… to leave now.”

Patton’s eyebrows came together. “Are you alright, Virgil?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said. Then he turned on his heel and all but ran back to his bedroom.

He slammed his door behind him and pressed his back against it, his heart beating painfully in his chest. For no good reason at all he felt tears pricking at his eyes, and reached up to swipe at them with his sleeve. He had to stop this, couldn’t let himself spiral, because then Thomas would get upset, and the other sides would find out and then all of them would comment on it and Virgil would have to come up with some excuse as to why he was so upset, because he didn’t actually  _ know  _ why.

He wrapped his arms around himself and walked back over to his bed, falling down on top of the covers. He felt exhausted all over again. He could still smell brownies; he turned and buried his face and nose into his blankets. In the kitchen, he knew that the other three were talking and dancing and laughing, if he hadn’t interrupted them too badly.

Virgil scowled at nothing and pulled his MP3 player out of his pocket. Jamming in his earbuds again, he scrolled until he found the loudest song he had, and then pumped the volume up as high as it would go. He closed his eyes and let the cacophony clear his mind.

X X X X X

“A date!” Patton squealed and pressed his hands over his mouth, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Roman clapped his hands together, beaming around the assembled group. “We must begin preparations immediately! To what dining establishment shall we be taking him?’

“ _ I _ will be taking him to the Cheesecake Factory,” said Thomas.

“Of course,” Logan muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I love their bread!” said Patton.

“A delicious choice,” Roman said.

“Thanks,” said Thomas. He fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket and turned towards Virgil, a hesitant expression on his face. “Virgil? What do you think?”

Virgil heaved a sigh. He was the only one not gathered on the sofa with the rest. He had taken his usual spot seated on the stairs, and he really wasn’t in the mood to argue with anyone today. “I think we all know what I think,” he said. If he said anything else they would call his bluff. “It could go horribly wrong.”

“Or it could go  _ delightfully _ right,” Roman said.

“What if you have nothing to talk about?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll just eat more bread!” said Patton.

“What if he doesn’t like you?”

“If he agreed to go on the date, it is highly improbable that he doesn’t like Thomas in at least some fashion,” said Logan.

Virgil shrugged, irritation setting in. He hadn’t slept at all last night, or the one before that, and fatigue was starting to get to him. He just wanted to go back to his room. “I think it’s a bad idea,” he said, “but if you want to go, suit yourself.”

“Virgil is on board!” Roman declared.

“Not what I said,” muttered Virgil.

Patton clapped his hands together. “I’m so excited,” he said. “Dates really are my  _ bread and butter _ .”

Thomas smiled, just a little bit. “Thanks, guys,” he said. He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “Oh, shoot, Joan and Talyn are almost here. I’ll talk to you all later, alright?”

“Tell them we say hi!” Patton said.

“Don’t stay up too late tonight. You need to be well rested for your date tomorrow,” Logan warned.

“Noted,” said Thomas, giving them a small wave as they all sank back into the mindscape.

Virgil appeared on the stairwell of the commons. He stood and brushed himself off, not looking at the other sides seated on the couch.

“I just love first dates,” Patton sighed, leaning back against the cushions.

“I cannot believe he’s taking him to the Cheesecake Factory,” Logan said.

“The Cheesecake Factory is a wonderful destination for a first date,” Roman said. “Bountiful food, grandiose decoration-”

“Bread,” Patton added.

“But it’s so… what’s the word.” Logan scrunched his nose and waved his hand. “Basic? Is that the correct usage?”

“The Cheesecake Factory is  _ not _ basic,” Roman said with a frown. “I’ll take  _ you  _ there on a date and we will have a marvelous time, right, Patton?”

“I like the brown bread the best,” Patton said to no one in particular. He glanced over his shoulder and his eyebrows lifted, as though he had just noticed Virgil was still standing there, uncertain of what he should do. “Virgil! Wanna watch a movie with us? Logan found an old copy of The Corpse Bride.”

“No,” Virgil said, his mind swimming with a sudden realization. “I’m… tired.”

“It’s alright if you doze off in the middle of it.” Patton, ever unrelenting, was still smiling at him. Virgil wondered if he was even aware of the awkward tension that settled over the room whenever Virgil was drawn into the conversation.

“You cannot sleep through The Corpse Bride,” Roman said, offended.

“It’s fine,” Virgil said, stepping backwards, and then he found himself beating a hasty retreat for the second time in the past few days. Now, more than ever, he wanted to interrupt the other three as little as possible, because an awful, terrible thought had occurred to him at the word “date.” And as he escaped back into his room, he thought over the past few weeks, dredging up every memory he had of the other three interacting, of the hugs Patton would give them out of the blue, of the way Roman’s eyes would linger on one or the other, of the way Logan had begun smiling instead of rolling his eyes at their awful jokes.

It was an awful, terrible thought that made awful, terrible sense, and it made Virgil feel even crappier than he had felt before.

X X X X X

It was obvious now that he was watching for it. They sat close together on the sofa, closer than they had before. Virgil sometimes caught them holding hands or linking their ankles together underneath the kitchen table. Once he had seen Roman lean in close to Logan and whisper something that had made what was probably Logan’s first ever blush rise in his cheeks.

Virgil had been stupid not to see it, really, because  _ of course _ they were all dating.

It made Virgil uncomfortable. Not only was it odd to think about, but it also meant that he was even further removed from the group than he had thought. Now when he was around them, when Patton tried to draw him into some kind of “family activity,” Virgil was acutely aware that he was interrupting time much more precious than he had realized before. The sting of displacement felt sharper when he walked in on the three of them cuddled up on the sofa or cooking together in the kitchen, and it hit somewhere much deeper than it had before. Earlier, he had been excluded from discussions, from games, from meals. Now he was excluded from the most intimate portions of their shared lives, and even though Virgil felt weird about it, it hurt.

Excluded wasn’t the right word, though, because their relationship was private and entirely separate from Virgil and it’s not like he  _ deserved  _ to be included simply because he was locked up in the mindscape with the three of them. Virgil knew he didn’t deserve any kind of affection from them. But that didn’t stop the sick feeling that welled up inside of him every time he thought about it, because the reality was that he  _ was  _ stuck with them, and they had made a very deliberate choice about what they wanted their relationship with him and with each other to look like. It was a practical choice, and there wasn’t really any other way it could have gone, but still. The sickness kept welling up.

Virgil stopped going out for meals entirely, because every time he sat at a table with all of them he was well aware that had it not been for him, it would have been a date. He stuck instead to his usual eating habits, ones that he had depended upon before Accepting Anxiety- he would pop into the kitchen only when he was certain that it was empty, grab as many snacks as he could, and retreat back to his room with a stash that could last him all day. It was annoying after he had become accustomed to feeling marginally comfortable with getting food whenever he wanted it, but it ensured that his interactions with the other sides were kept to an absolute minimum.

It worked fine for several days, until he slipped up and popped into the kitchen at the wrong time.

He appeared in front of the fridge as usual. He started to turn towards it, hoping there was some kind of pasta leftover inside, when he stopped and stared at Logan, who was sitting at the kitchen table.

Logan was reading a book. He glanced up at Virgil just briefly. “Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” Virgil muttered. He ducked his head down and turned to open one of the cupboards, scanning the contents for a bag of chips. He needed to be quick.

“You haven’t been coming out for meals anymore,” Logan said. He was still reading, his eyes moving back and forth across the page behind his thick glasses. “It’s been worrying Patton.”

Virgil shrugged. “Weird appetite,” he said.

“Hmm,” Logan said. He flipped a page. It was strangely intimidating. “You don’t have to sneak behind our backs to get food. You share this kitchen with us.”

“I’m not sneaking,” Virgil said, feeling warmth bloom in his cheeks.

“You’ve never been expressly comfortable around the three of us, but you at least have been confident enough to enter shared spaces with us in the past,” Logan said, as though Virgil hadn’t said anything at all. “That has changed recently. Is it something we have done?”

“No.”

“Is it something personal, then?” He flipped the page again.

“No. It’s nothing,” Virgil said with a scowl. “I’m just hungry at weird times.”

“Or perhaps it is something that you have realized.” Logan finally looked up from his book, cocking his head at Virgil even as a wash of cold spread down Virgil’s back.  _ He knows he knows he knows _ , ran through Virgil’s mind, but Logan didn’t look annoyed, just mildly curious.

“No,” Virgil said. “I haven’t… no.”

“If you have any questions for us, you can just ask,” Logan said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, and tightness clamped Virgil’s throat shut. He needed to  _ get out get out get out _ .

“No questions,” he managed. “Tired. Bye.”

He disappeared from the room before Logan could say anything else. He had buried himself back under the covers of his bed before he realized that he had forgotten to get something to eat.

X X X X X

Some interactions with the other sides were unavoidable. Whenever Thomas summoned all of them for a video or just a discussion, he had to sit there and pretend he wasn’t aware of what was going on between them, that he didn’t notice the way Roman would reach out and touch Patton’s knee conspiratorially whenever Logan talked. Virgil would grit his teeth and try to appear as apathetic as possible, while at the same time keeping a close eye on the casual touches.

There were a lot of casual touches, and now Virgil was aware of every one. Patton was the instigator of a good portion of them, but not all. He was more likely to opt for a bigger display, throwing his arms around Roman or Logan or both of them at the same time, pressing up close to them when they sat on the couch. Roman’s touches were subtle and smooth, a caress of the wrist here, hip bump there. Logan’s were quick and rare, but Virgil still noticed every time he nudged Roman’s foot with his own or reached out to brush Patton’s hair out of his eyes.

Virgil was leaving his room normally again to try and ease suspicion. He wandered into the kitchen one morning, hoping to get a cup of coffee with as little social interaction as possible, and found the other three seated around the kitchen table. Logan had a book out in front of him, and the hand he wasn’t using to flip the pages was wrapped around Patton’s. Patton, who was happily spooning Cheerios into his mouth with his free hand, smiled at Virgil.

“Morning, kiddo,” he said. “Come join us!”

“I’m just getting coffee.” Virgil’s eyes lingered on the joined hands. He frowned to himself as he turned and grabbed his usual black mug from the cabinet, and then reached for the coffee pot.

As he poured it, he felt eyes on him. When he set the pot down again and turned to walk to the fridge, he glanced at Roman to find the other side was staring at him. His arms were crossed and his eyes were narrowed, and Virgil narrowed his eyes right back at him but chose not to rise to the obvious taunt. He turned away and marched over to the fridge, throwing it open.

“Is there something you would like to share with the group, Virgil?” Roman asked as Virgil grabbed the milk.

Virgil shut the refrigerator door. “I was just about to ask you that,” he said. “Why are you glaring at me?”

“I am not glaring.”

“Oh, is that just something your face does naturally, then?”

“Roman,” Patton said in a warning tone as Roman sat up straighter in his seat, his feathers clearly ruffled. Virgil turned his back on him to hide his grin and unscrewed the cap of the milk.

“Listen closely,  _ Walking Dead _ -”

“Roman!” Patton said again.

“He’s staring,” Roman snapped. “He’s been staring for days, and I’m tired of it. If he has something to say to us, he should just come out and say it.”

Virgil bit the inside of his cheek and poured milk into his coffee, maintaining outward peace despite his rapidly quickening heart rate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sword for brains.”

“Judging from your marked change in recent behavior, there is something that you disapprove of.”

“I don’t disapprove of anything.” Virgil opened the silverware drawer too forcefully, and all of the utensils rattled loudly. He snatched up a spoon. “If you three are comfortable  _ cuddling _ every chance you get-”

“Aha!” Roman declared. Virgil turned to see him pointing in triumph. “I  _ knew  _ you disapproved.”

“I wasn’t aware there was something to disapprove  _ of _ ,” Virgil snapped.

“Come now, Hot Topic, you may be a little slow, but you’re not a complete idiot.”

“Roman,” Logan said sharply, setting his book down. He had let go of Patton’s hand. “That’s uncalled for.”

“No, go on, Princey,” Virgil said, crossing his arms. He swallowed, trying to steady his breathing. “What do I disapprove of?”

“Our relationship.”

Virgil’s heart skipped a beat. He pressed his lips together, trying to just look irritated even though he suddenly felt lightheaded, because here was the confirmation he had subconsciously been looking for, the acceptance of what he had assumed to be true. 

“Relationship?” he said, hoping that his voice didn’t waver too badly. “And when exactly were you three planning to tell me that?”

“Stop pretending that you didn’t know,” said Roman. “That you haven’t been  _ judging  _ us for days-”

“Why would I give a fuck what you all do in your free time?” Virgil asked. “I’m just annoyed that you all didn’t think it was necessary for me to know.”

“Virgil,” Patton said. His eyes were wide, and Virgil could see tears starting to grow in them, and he felt a wave of guilt, but he couldn’t stop glaring at them, all of them. “We’re sorry. We were going to tell you.”

“Right,” Virgil said. “No, it’s alright. I get it. I’m really happy for you all.”

“Virgil,” Logan said with a frown.

“Really,” Virgil said. “I genuinely and honestly don’t give a single  _ fuck  _ that you all are… doing whatever it is you’re doing. Good for you guys. Glad you’re happy. I just want to be able to get my coffee in peace without seeing you all making out in front of me or anything.”

“That is not what we do, you-” Roman started, but Patton interrupted with a “Roman!” that was much angrier than Patton could normally muster. Roman shut his mouth, looking appropriately chastised.

“Virgil,” Patton said, turning back to him. His expression was desperate. “We would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing we want.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “I know.” He dropped his spoon into his coffee cup with more force than was necessary. Hot coffee splashed on his hand. “It’s fine.”

“If you have any questions-” Logan started.

“I don’t have any questions! I just came out for coffee.” Virgil picked up his cup, turned, and marched out of the room.

He scowled all the way through the commons and while he opened his door and marched in and slammed it shut behind him. He scowled as he crossed his bedroom and put the coffee down on his bedside table. He scowled even as he felt hot tears dripping down his cheeks, and he reached up to angrily wipe them away.

“You knew they were together,” he said to himself. “This isn’t a surprise. They’re happy. Good for them.”

Even though his bed was right there, he wrapped his arms around himself and sank to the floor. He pressed his back against his bed frame and took a long, shaky breath, trying to calm himself down. In for four seconds. Hold for seven. Release for eight.

It’s not like  _ he  _ wanted a part of whatever it was they had going on. He normally wanted as little contact with them as possible. He didn’t want to hold hands with Logan while they both read, or fall asleep with his head on Roman’s shoulder, or be the target of one of Patton’s full body bear hugs. He  _ hated _ touching other people. It was invasive and he was bad at it and it normally ended with both parties feeling uncomfortable.

He didn’t care that this meant he would be spending the rest of his life truly and utterly alone, that he had just been irrevocably pushed out of the most intimate relationship he had (not that it was intimate at all to begin with). None of it mattered, because they didn’t owe him anyways, and he certainly wouldn’t have fit into whatever relationship they had. He doesn’t work like that. He knows that.

Virgil rested his forehead on his knees and tried to keep breathing, tried to stop the tears from falling.

It was no use.

X X X X X

The couch cushion sank down next to Virgil, drawing his eyes open. He blinked through the loud music coming from his earbuds and glanced over to find Patton had sat down beside him, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said as Virgil took his earbuds out. “What are you up to?”

Virgil just lifted his MP3 player in response. He had come out here because his room had become a bit too much for all of the thoughts he had been subject to since yesterday morning. Even though he ran the risk of talking to the other sides, it was much more pleasant for his head out here.

“Music! Fun,” Patton said brightly. He toyed with the hanging sleeve of his cardigan, blinking behind his glasses. Virgil sighed to himself as he continued. “Listen, kiddo-”

“You don’t have to do this, Patton,” Virgil said. Patton looked at him in surprise. “I promise you I’m not… weirded out, or judgmental, or anything like that about your relationship. I am really, truly happy that all of you are happy. Congratulations.”

“Oh,” Patton said. His smile became a little less hesitant. “Virgil, that… means a lot. Thank you.”

Virgil tried to smile back, just a little bit. He turned his MP3 player over in his hands. “So, uh… how did it happen?”

Patton’s dimple showed as he grinned. “It wasn’t anything big,” he said. “We’ve always been rather touchy- or, at least, I have! And we were all so close, so it was kind of a natural next step.”

“Right,” Virgil said. He stared down at his lap. It had been a bad idea to come out of his room. “That’s amazing, Pat.”

“Are you alright, Virgil?” Patton sounded concerned again, and something caught in Virgil’s throat. He tried to swallow it.

“I’m fine.”

A hand touched his shoulder. Virgil flinched out of reflex, unaccustomed to people touching him, and the hand retreated. When he glanced at Patton, Patton looked guilty.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said.

“No,” Virgil blurted out. He bit his tongue to slow his words. “It’s, uh… it’s fine.”

Patton stared at him, expression uncharacteristically serious. He reached out and laid a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. His touch was warm and heavy, and although it made Virgil want to squirm, it sent a tingling of pleasure through Virgil. Virgil couldn’t remember the last time that someone had touched him voluntarily.

He didn’t think anyone ever  _ had  _ touched him voluntarily.

Patton’s thumb was moving, rubbing firm circles into Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil felt a tug of embarrassment as he closed his eyes, feeling the sensation.

“Do you want to watch tv with me?” Patton asked.

Virgil didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t think he could. He felt tired all of a sudden, lethargic, and the idea of having to get up and leave this couch, this  _ touch _ , was impossible. “Fine,” he said.

He opened his eyes in momentary panic when the hand lifted from his shoulder, but when he looked, Patton was just leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table. He pressed a few buttons and the screen sparked to life. He flipped through the channels a few times before it stopped on a rerun of the Great British Bake Off.

“I love this show,” Patton said, setting the remote back on the table. He sat back against the sofa, and Virgil had just decided that he should scoot to the other side of the couch to give Patton some space when Patton looked at him and lifted his arm. “Cuddle?” he asked.

Virgil’s mouth opened in surprise. Shoulder touching, he could get. But… Patton wanted to  _ cuddle _ ? With him? Virgil wasn’t in their relationship. Was this cheating? Was he a homewrecker?

Patton’s face was open and unassuming, his arm still outstretched. Virgil knew that he could say no, and Patton wouldn’t be offended. They could sit on opposite sides of the couch, as usual, and Patton would probably never offer again out of fear that he would make Virgil uncomfortable.

The fear of that- revocation of the offer- was what spurred Virgil to nod, once.

A smile spread across Patton’s face as Virgil stiffly scooted closer to him. His arm came down around Virgil’s shoulders, fingers coming to rest gently on his upper arm, light and warm. The warmth was nothing compared to that of Patton’s body pressed against Virgil’s side, though. Virgil sat straight and upright, uncertain of what to do, aware that he looked ridiculous.  _ Mistake mistake mistake mistake, you’re acting weird, what kind of person doesn’t even know how to cuddle properly, Patton is going to tell you to leave _ -

“Relax,” Patton said, squeezing Virgil’s arm. He shifted so that Virgil had to lie sideways to be comfortable, and Virgil hesitantly rested his head on Patton’s shoulder. His shirt was soft and smelled pleasantly of fabric softener. Virgil breathed it in, shutting his eyes again.

Patton watched the show, laughing at all the right parts and oohing softly whenever impressive feats were displayed. His breath tickled Virgil’s cheek, and after a while, the fingers resting on his arm wandered up to stroke Virgil’s hair. Virgil bit back a moan, because wouldn’t  _ that  _ be embarrassing, but he couldn’t help it; Patton ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, heavy on his scalp, and Virgil had never even considered that that was something someone could do to another person, and god, it felt so  _ nice _ .

The voices on the television became unintelligible. He relaxed further against Patton, against his warmth, and let the repetitive motion of fingers in his hair lull him further into something toeing the edge of sleep, but never quite tipping over, because to surrender to sleep would mean to give up the sensations the waking world offered to him. Virgil couldn’t do that, because he was quite certain this was going to be a one time thing, and he wanted to savor it.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been drifting or how many episodes of the show had come and gone when he heard voices, and he roused himself just enough to listen in.

“Shh.” He could hear the rumble of Patton’s voice in his chest when he spoke. “He’s sleeping.”

“I have never seen him so relaxed.” The curious inflection told him that it was Logan speaking.

“Isn’t he cute?” Patton asked, his voice warm.

“He certainly looks less… annoying than usual,” said Roman.

“Come on, he’s adorable,” Patton said. He brushed his fingers against Virgil’s scalp and Virgil couldn’t help but turn further into the touch, pressing his nose against Patton’s shoulder. Patton made a soft cooing noise.

“How on earth did you get him to agree to this?” Roman asked.

“I just asked him,” Patton said. Fingers, warm on his head. “I told you guys. He’s just lonely.”

Virgil knew he should wake up and defend himself, because how  _ embarrassing _ was this whole situation, but there was no use. It was just a statement of fact at this point. Of course Virgil was lonely. He didn’t have an argument against it.

The conversation continued, but Virgil didn’t have it in him to listen anymore. He let himself slip further, tipping into the world of sleep, and everything went dark.

X X X X X

Virgil woke up to a dimmed living room. A heavy red blanket he recognized as one from Roman’s room slid off of him as he sat up. He looked at it as he rubbed his eyes, feeling something bittersweet pool in his stomach.

There were voices coming from the kitchen. It must be dinner time by now, which meant that the others were probably cooking. Virgil knew he ought to go and thank them for letting him sleep, but he suddenly felt too awkward to do so.

He stood up, moving carefully so as to remain completely silent. He shook out the blanket and carefully folded it, placing it neatly on the coffee table. Then, with one last glance at the kitchen- Patton was laughing loudly, and Virgil didn’t want to intrude on that- he crept away, back towards his room.

His room seemed darker than usual, even after he turned on the lamp by his bed. He sat down on his mattress and stared at the artificial light until his eyes hurt. When he turned away from it and blinked at the floor, he saw spots.

A knock on his door made him jump. He frowned. What did they need so soon? Normally he had to wait days before one of them came knocking to try and draw him back out again.

He stood and crossed the room, expecting to open the door and find Patton there. Instead, he found himself staring in surprise at Roman.

“Virgil,” Roman said with a grand smile after a short, awkward pause. “You’re awake!”

“Obviously,” Virgil said, leaning his weight against the door and observing Roman with a frown. Roman seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

“Did you have an invigorating rest?”

“It was fine.”

“Ah,” Roman said. “Wonderful.”

Virgil waited for Roman to say something else, but the other side seemed, for once, not eager to speak his mind.

“Did you want something?” Virgil prompted.

“Patton sent me to inquire about your presence at dinner,” Roman said. “He made pasta.”

Right, Virgil thought, familiar disappointment welling in his stomach. Patton probably felt bad about earlier, probably pitied him for his slip in propriety, for Virgil’s clear need for some kind of intimacy. “No thanks.”

“Oh,” Roman said, and it was just Virgil’s self-projection that made him think that the prince looked in some way disappointed by his response. “Alright.”

Virgil edged backwards, back towards the safety of his room. “...Bye?”

“Wait!” Roman drew himself up, looking like he was about to conduct some important business. “I wanted to apologize.”

Virgil opened his mouth, and then closed it, opting instead to just frown at Roman.

“For yesterday,” Roman continued. “It was unfair of me to draw you into a verbal altercation when you so clearly would have preferred to remain peaceful. For that, I am sorry.”

“Oh.” Virgil was lost for words. He couldn’t, in recent memory, remember Roman  _ ever  _ apologizing directly for anything. He preferred to express his regret through action, not words.

And he had never apologized to Virgil.

“Alright,” Virgil said. “Uh… thanks. I guess.”

Roman cocked his head and looked at Virgil. Virgil normally found it very difficult to maintain eye contact, and this was no different, but he found he couldn’t look away. Roman’s eyes- the same as Thomas’s, as Patton’s, as Logan’s, as his- had that trademark Roman glint in them that he got whenever he was about to do something brave.

Before Virgil could break the tension with a sarcastic comment, Roman reached out and placed his hand against Virgil’s cheek. Virgil’s breath hitched in his chest, and he froze, staring at Roman as he moved one thumb along the line of his cheekbone, then let it fall to trail his jaw.

The touch was gone in seconds. Virgil watched Roman withdraw his hand, and then looked up at the self-satisfied smile on Roman’s face. Virgil was too stunned to be upset. 

“Why’d you do that?” he asked instead, wanting some kind of explanation.

Roman shrugged. “I wanted to,” he said. He tipped his head as he retreated back down the hall towards the commons. “We’ll save some pasta for you.”

Virgil watched him leave, and then stepped back and shut the door. He took a moment to stare at it and try to make sense of what had just happened.

It had been a weird day.


	2. Chapter 2

Virgil was in his room scrolling through Tumblr on his laptop when there was a sharp knock at his door. He groaned- did they really need him again?- and heaved himself out of bed and over to the door.

“Virgil,” Logan said when Virgil opened the door. His hands were clasped behind his back, his shoulders thrown back resolutely. Virgil cocked an eyebrow in amusement.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Would you like to join me in the commons?”

Virgil frowned. “And do what?”

“Thomas is off regaling Roman and Patton once more with tales of his date,” Logan said. “I am reading a book about clinical psychology. You are on your laptop. Those are both independent activities that can be conducted in a more public forum.”

“You… want to sit in the commons together and… do separate things?”

“It may be more pleasurable to undergo these individual activities together,” Logan said, and was Virgil imagining it, or were there spots of pink on his cheeks? “You do not have to, of course.”

Virgil hesitated only because of the absurdity of the request. He supposed, however, that it wasn’t all that strange after what had happened to him over the course of the rest of the week. “Sure,” he said. Why the hell not? “Let me just grab my laptop.”

Logan stood stiffly at his door while Virgil went back to his bed and picked up his computer. Then they walked together back to the commons in silence, and Logan picked up a book that had been resting on the coffee table and sat down in an armchair, and Virgil curled up on the sofa with his laptop and kept scrolling through his dashboard.

It was a little bit uncomfortable, at first. Logan’s presence was overwhelmingly there; Virgil was aware of every page flip and breath that he took. For a while, Virgil kept feeling as though he ought to speak up and say something, because wasn’t that what two people who were spending time together were supposed to do?

But Logan seemed content enough to read in silence, and Virgil didn’t want to disturb him, so he hunkered down and dove deep into Tumblr. And as he did so, he found himself relaxing.

It wasn’t that he had forgotten Logan was there. He could still sense him and hear him, but Virgil let go of the pressure to say anything and just focused on what he was doing. And Logan had been right (of course) in that it did feel a little bit better sitting out here than he had in his room.

Virgil didn’t look up again until Roman and Patton popped up in the room. When he did, he blinked, suddenly aware of how strained his eyes felt.

“And what are you two up to in here?” Patton asked, beaming around at them.

“I am reading. Virgil is on one of his social media platforms.”

“Tumblr,” Virgil said when Roman looked a little bit too excited.

“Oh, that dreadful website again,” he said, wandering over to Logan’s armchair. He swooped down to press a kiss to Logan’s cheek. Logan just hummed, not taking his eyes off of his book. “It’s full of all those depressing quotes.”

“Only because that’s the kind of stuff I reblog,” Virgil said, trying his hardest not to look uncomfortable at the display of affection. This was something he was going to have to get used to. “You can find anything on here.”

“I prefer Pinterest,” Patton said, trotting over to stand behind Virgil and peer over his shoulder at the anime screencap his mouse was hovering over. “And you shouldn’t be reblogging depressing stuff, kiddo! Try a puppy picture!”

“That would mess up his image, Patton,” Roman said. Virgil looked up to glare at him, but Roman was smiling. The jest had been with good intentions.

“It’s better than what Roman would have on here,” Virgil said. “You’d probably be one of those Disney fanblogs.”

Roman’s face lit up. “That sounds quite wonderful! Is that possible?”

“Sure, Princey,” Virgil said, clicking back to the top of his dash and rubbing his eyes. “I’ll set you up with an account sometime.”

“It’s a date!”

Virgil dropped his hands and looked at him. Roman was smiling, but then he glanced over Virgil’s head where Patton was standing and his expression fell into something akin to subdued horror. Panic bit at Virgil’s stomach, and he needed to  _ get out get out get out _ because Roman was looking at Patton and there was some kind of silent conversation going on between them.

Virgil shut his laptop. Logan looked up at the sound and blinked around, seemingly unaware of what had just transpired.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Virgil said. “I’m going to bed.”

“You haven’t even had dinner yet, kiddo,” Patton said as Virgil stood up. Virgil couldn’t bring himself to look at Patton’s face.

“Not hungry,” he said. He tucked his computer under his arm and hurried off towards his section of the mindscape. He managed to hold it together until he got to his room and closed the door behind him, and then the dam broke and hot tears spilled onto his cheeks.

Virgil sniffed angrily and crawled onto his bed, putting his laptop down on his bedside table. Roman had been so panicked by a simple slip of the tongue. Were they that opposed to being associated with him in that way that they would all freak out over an unfortunate wording? Virgil understood that they didn’t want him intruding on their relationship, but was he really so disgusting a prospect that they had to be so open about their dislike of him?

_ That’s not fair _ , a voice in his head said as he wiped his eyes.  _ It’s not their fault. It’s  _ you _ who keeps trying to insert yourself into their happiness. They’re just too polite to tell you to fuck off to your face _ .

They keep inviting me, Virgil countered weakly. Logan invited me out there. I would have stayed in here.

_ You should have, _ that other, louder voice said.  _ Then you wouldn’t have made a complete fool of yourself in front of all of them. You’ve probably ruined their night. Can’t you just let them have this without making it into a pity party for you? _

Virgil knew the voice was right. He curled up on himself, buried his face into his pillows to try and stifle his sobs even as his shoulders shook with the force of them.

It was a long time before he managed to fall into an uncertain sleep.

X X X X X

A sharp tugging sensation jerked him out of unconsciousness. Virgil gasped and sat up straight. His room was dark; he glanced at the alarm clock next to his bed and noted that it was just after three in the morning.

Another tug pulled him out of bed. He ruffled his hair, trying to shake sleep off, because he recognized a summoning when he felt it. He took a deep breath and sank downwards, materializing into the physical world. This couldn’t be good.

He popped up in Thomas’s bedroom. It was dark in here too, but the lamp on his bedside table was on. Thomas was on his bed, blankets pooled around his legs. He had his arms wrapped around himself, half hunched over as though in pain.

Worry shot through Virgil, strong and intense. “Thomas?” he asked, taking a hesitant step forward. He glanced around, waiting for the other sides to materialize. They didn’t come. “Thomas, are you alright?”

Thomas let out a long, slow groan. He didn’t look up. “What did you do?” he asked, his voice choked.

“I- I didn’t do anything,” Virgil said, trying to think back to something that might have caused whatever it was that was happening, but his thoughts were a blur of  _ Thomas hurt get help my fault Patton Roman Logic- _

“Yes you did!” Thomas’s voice was harsher than it had ever been, and Virgil flinched away from him, tried to draw away even though he should be trying to help. “It’s always you, Anxiety! You did this!”

“What- what did I do?” Virgil’s words shook. His breath was coming quicker, sharper. Beneath him, his legs felt unsteady.

Slowly, Thomas raised his head. Virgil took another stuttering step back as he took in the darkness underneath Thomas’s bloodshot eyes, the stark contrast of thin, dark hair hanging over pale skin. Thomas looked like a  _ corpse _ .

“This is your fault,” Thomas said.

“I- I’m sorry,” Virgil choked out. His throat was closing. He took another step backward and reached behind him, feeling the cold wall. Where were the others? Surely they would have sensed this by now.

“They’re gone, Anxiety.” Thomas was standing now. Virgil hadn’t seen him get up. He stepped in front of the lamp, blocking the light and throwing his shadow against the walls, huge and looming. “Your anxiety engulfed them. They’re gone, and I’m left like _this_.”  
“I- I-” Virgil opened his mouth, trying to breath, but nothing was coming in. His back hit the wall and he slid slowly down to the floor as Thomas approached him, his footsteps heavy. “I- I’m so-rry-”

“It’s too late for that, Anxiety.” Thomas was standing over Virgil, staring down at him, and his face was so angry and horrible and Virgil suddenly felt lightheaded with fear. “It’s just you and me now. You’re going to have to face what you’ve done. What you are.”

“T-Thomas-”

Thomas swooped down to crouch in front of him. Virgil moaned and turned his face away, unable to look at him any longer.

“Look at me!” Thomas’s voice was layered, the way Virgil’s was whenever he was upset. Virgil opened his eyes and turned to look at Thomas again, fingers scratching at the wooden floor beneath him, searching for some kind of help.

“I’m you,” Thomas whispered. He drew his lips back, revealing dirty, yellow teeth. “I’m you, Anxiety.”

“N-no.”

“Y-yes.” Thomas mimicked Virgil’s stutter, mocking, and Virgil let out a choked sob, closing his eyes again. “You can’t escape this, Anxiety, can’t escape what you’ve done. Open your eyes, Virgil!”

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, tighter, bringing his hands up to press hard against his ears, trying to block it out. He shook his head, willing this demonic version of Thomas to go away. “No no no no no no-”

“Virgil!” the horrible voice was too loud to drown out. Virgil tipped his head back and whined, trying to get it to go away. “No no no no no-”

“Kiddo, please, you need to wake up!”

There were hands on his wrists, trying to drag them away from his head. Virgil opened his eyes again with a loud gasp.

It was brighter, and there were faces in front of him, swimming through his panic, but they weren’t dark and sinister. The ground beneath him was soft. Patton’s glasses in front of him were round and reflected the lamplight coming from his own bedside table.

“Oh, thank gosh,” Patton said. He lifted his hands up to cup Virgil’s cheeks, and Virgil stared at him, mouth open to try to suck in air that wasn’t coming. “Virgil, you need to breathe, please, kiddo.”

Virgil tried, he did, but his vision was going spotty and his chest hurt and he couldn’t breathe and he was so sorry so sorry he didn’t mean to do it-

“Move,” said a sharp voice, and Patton was pushed aside. Virgil found himself meeting Logan’s determined gaze. “Virgil,” he said, reaching out and pressing cool fingers to Virgil’s forearms. “Look at me. You are in your bedroom. You had a nightmare, and you are currently having a panic attack. You need to breathe before you pass out. Try it with me, match my breaths. Breathe in, slowly.”

Virgil dropped his eyes to Logan’s lips, which were round with an exaggerated breath. Virgil took in one short, stuttering gulp of air.

“Good,” Logan said. His fingers were drawing circles into Virgil’s skin; Virgil threw himself at the sensation, clung to it to try and pull himself away from whatever precipice he was about to tip over. “Now. Can you tell me five things you see in the room?”

Virgil closed his mouth and swallowed. His throat felt dry. “I- I can’t- I can’t breathe-”

“Five things you see,” Logan said, his voice firm but gentle.

“Logan,” said a small voice from behind him, but Virgil was already struggling to speak again.

“I- I see- you,” he said. “Logan. I- I see my blankets. There- there’s a light.”

“Good,” Logan murmured. “Two more.”

“Your glasses,” Virgil said, and that probably didn’t count because he had already named Logan as one of his things, but Virgil didn’t care. “And- and I see-” he blinked, glanced to his side. “My computer.”

“Fantastic,” Logan said. “What are four things you can feel?”

Virgil’s throat still felt tight and closed, but he no longer saw spots when he blinked. He took another shaky breath. “Blankets,” he said. “Uh- hot. I feel air. I feel you.”

Logan’s fingers pressed comfortingly against Virgil’s arm.

“Three things you can hear?”

Virgil swallowed. “I hear- bed springs. And something rustling. And-”

And crying. Virgil coughed out a breath and turned to see Patton standing by the bed, his hands pressed to his mouth. His eyes widened when Virgil looked at him.

“Patton?” Virgil asked.

Patton lifted his hands, as though to say something, and then pressed them back over his mouth to stifle a sob.

Fresh guilt washed over Virgil, and his breath hitched.  _ His fault all you they’re gone I’m sorry I’m sorry- _

“Patton, stop,” Logan said sharply. “You’re upsetting him.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton whispered.

Virgil shook his head, opened his mouth to say that it was okay, he was fine, they could all leave now so he could lick his wounds in peace. But none of that came out. Instead, Virgil let out a great, big sob that hurt his throat.

Bed springs creaked as the mattress dipped down beside him. Then there were warm arms around him, pulling him close to lean against an equally warm chest, and he turned and buried his face into it as he dissolved into panicked crying.

“I don’t think being in this room is helping,” Logan said somewhere above him.

“Let’s go to my room,” said the warm body holding Virgil- Roman. “Virgil? Virgil, we’re going to move you. I’m not going to let go of you, alright?”

Virgil curled his fingers into the fabric of Roman’s shirt and cried harder. Roman gathered him up, bringing his other arm under his knees so he was cradling him almost bridal style in his lap, and then Virgil felt the strange tingling sensation that he associated with disappearing and reappearing somewhere else in the mindscape.

The ground was still soft beneath Virgil, but it was much brighter in this room. He lifted his head just marginally to look around and found that he was in Roman’s room. He had only been in here a handful of times, enough to know that the walls were littered with awards and certificates of Thomas’s. Roman’s bed was big and circular, taking up a majority of the room, and clad in rich red blankets. A canopy overhead dropped white silk around them like a waterfall.

Virgil let himself be readjusted until he was lying against Roman’s chest. Roman wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, one hand coming up to rub his shoulder. Virgil heard blankets rustle somewhere else on the bed and knew that Patton and Logan had joined them.

“I’m- I’m so- sorry,” Virgil said into Roman’s damp shirt.

“Don’t apologize,” Roman said. Virgil felt the vibrations in his chest when he spoke.

Another hand brushed Virgil’s back, hesitant and soft. “Do you want to talk about it, kiddo?” Patton asked.

Virgil swallowed and shook his head, his nose rubbing against Roman’s chest.

“Alright,” Patton said, his voice low and soothing. “You’re okay, Virgil.”

Virgil knew that. The panic had mostly subsided by now. Now he was just upset and tired and embarrassed, and that only made him cry harder. He drew his legs up, tucking them closer to Roman, who didn’t say anything in complaint.

At least ten minutes had passed before Virgil’s breath slowed. He reached up and wiped his eyes with a shaky hand, pulling away from Roman. Roman didn’t stop him. He had probably been uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said, his voice thick. “I’m fine. I was being stupid.”

“Stop that,” Logan said. Virgil turned to him. He was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, a frown on his face. “That was an awful panic attack. That was not stupid, and you are not fine.”

“And that’s okay,” said Patton. He was sitting next to Virgil. His eyes were rimmed with red and there were tear tracks on his cheeks, but he smiled when Virgil looked at him. “We’re here for you, Virgil.”

Virgil sniffed at the fresh tears that rose, and dropped his gaze to his lap. He knew he should thank them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Hot shame was trickling down his spine. “I can go now.”

He was about to roll off the bed when Roman grabbed his arm. Virgil, with adrenaline from his dream still running through his system, flinched. Roman dropped him like a hot iron, eyes wide with guilt.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

Virgil’s eyes felt puffy, like they always did after he cried. “No, really, it’s fine,” he said. “I was overreacting.”

“Your sympathetic nervous system has just depleted its energy reserves,” Logan said, putting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. “Most panic attacks subside within twenty to thirty minutes, but the after effects can last for much longer, even-”

“Days,” Virgil said, “yeah, I know. And I…” Virgil grit his teeth as discreetly as he could, trying to shove through his own humiliation. “I really appreciate you guys… helping out, but I can deal with these things. I know what to do.”

“Do you get these often?” Patton asked, eyebrows drawn together.

“Uh…” Virgil stared at him, and then at Logan, who was staring back with subdued thoughtfulness. “I’m Anxiety.”

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean you should get all of the symptoms of-”

“Hey,” Roman said, cutting Logan off. He scooted back to regard Virgil, and for the first time Virgil realized that he wasn’t bedecked in his usual princely attire. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and red and gold striped pajama bottoms. They were much more humble than Virgil would have expected of Prince’s night clothes, but then again, Virgil had never seen him in pajamas before.

Virgil was just glad he had thrown his hoodie on top of his own t-shirt and sweats before going to bed. Thank god for some miracles.

“The point is,” Roman continued, “that you don’t  _ have  _ to deal with this alone. We’re here for you, Virgil.”

He looked a little bit uncertain, but when Virgil frowned at him, he didn’t bust out laughing and shout ‘Just kidding!’ at him. Virgil glanced at Patton, who was wearing a bright yellow t-shirt with a cartoon sun drawn on it. He had stopped crying, and met Virgil’s eyes with a smile. Even Logan, who had exchanged his tie for a plain black shirt, nodded at him.

Virgil felt emotion building up in his throat again, and he swallowed it because he didn’t want to cry in front of them anymore than he already had. He was just tired, and unused to being shown this kind of support, even if it was out of pity.

“I don’t want to… intrude,” he said, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Hey. Kiddo,” Patton said. He got onto his hands and knees and crawled over, struggling with some difficulty on the soft mattress and coming to a stop very close to Virgil. Virgil tried not to pull away when he grabbed both his hands and lowered his eyes to look at him, expression very serious. “Virgil, no matter what our relationship is to one another, we are first and foremost a family. That is always going to be our number one priority, always.” Patton squeezed his fingers, lips quirking upwards. “We love you, Virge. And we want to help you.”

Virgil blinked multiple times to try and clear his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, and then paused.  _ What the hell was he supposed to say to  _ that?

“Oh, love,” Patton said. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Virgil in a hug. Virgil froze, uncertain of what to do. Patton’s signature warmth mingled with the spiced, cologne-esque scent of Roman’s room, wrapping Virgil in a feeling that sent soft tingles up his spine. He let his eyes close, because he suddenly felt exhausted, and tucked his chin into Patton’s shoulder. He had been too spoiled with these hugs recently. It would be very difficult when they stopped.

“We should go to bed,” said Logan.

“Is that alright with you, Virgil?” whispered Patton.

Virgil just nodded.

He heard Roman crawl out of bed, and a moment later the lights turned out, leaving them in total darkness. That might have made Virgil more anxious had Patton not held on to him as they shifted, trying to find comfortable spots on the circular bed. Virgil found himself lying on his side with Patton shoved in close to him, one arm thrown around him protectively. When he moved his feet, they brushed someone else’s- Roman’s, he thought- and he could hear Logan breathing on the other side of Patton.

Virgil remained stiff for several minutes. Roman didn’t try and touch him, and Patton’s grip on him was loose and respectful. But Virgil had  _ never  _ fallen asleep next to anyone else, not even a pet. His bed was always devoid of life when he crawled into it, and he had never experienced the intimacy of lying in the dark with other people. He could feel Patton’s heartbeat on his shoulder blade, feel the mattress dipping on either side of him, hear all three of them breathing.

He realized, with an odd pang, that this was normal for them. He hadn’t considered it before, but they probably all slept together now that they were dating. He wondered if it was always in Roman’s room, or if they switched every night. While Virgil sat alone in his own bed, all three of them had been doing this for weeks.

Half-unconscious of his own actions, Virgil pressed backwards, shutting his eyes tight to focus on the sensations of having another person’s arms around him. He reminded himself that this wasn’t his. He was allowed in this intimate space because he had had a rough night and the others were far too kind for their own good. Tomorrow, they would all smile awkwardly and check up on Virgil once before he told them he was fine, and that would be it. They would go back to lying with one another, sleeping in unison, and Virgil would go back to…

Virgil took a long, slow breath. He couldn’t drag himself into another panic now. He had to savor this.

X X X X X

Virgil woke up to light pressing on his eyelids and another person’s arm draped over his waist. It was a mark of how tired he was that it took him a little more than three seconds to react to these stimuli.

Virgil opened his eyes and took in the red blankets and the bright lighting. He wasn’t in his room. He was in Roman’s, he realized, and last night flooded back to him all at once, and the arm lying across him suddenly felt stifling.

Virgil sat up. The arm fell off and its owner snorted with sleep. Virgil looked over at Roman, who was curled up on the silk pillows, a displeased expression on his face as he retracted his arm. His hair was mussed and when he opened his eyes, they were caked with an unawareness that Virgil had never seen in them before.

“Urgh,” he said, pushing himself up on his elbows. He rubbed his eyes and then blinked at Virgil. Virgil expected him to frown, or scream, or perhaps yell until Virgil left, because he had obviously mistaken him for either Patton or Logan.

But Roman just gave him a sleepy smile. “Morning,” he said.

“Uh,” Virgil said, trying to surreptitiously scoot further away. “Hi. Where are Patton and Logan?”

“Patton is most likely off trying to scrounge something up for a morning meal,” Roman said, turning over to flop back against the pillows with a groan. “And Logan insists upon being a morning person for some godforsaken reason. No doubt he has already finished two novels by now. It’s a blessing to know that you also have an affinity for sleeping in to a reasonable time. It certainly evens the playing field.”

Virgil had no idea what his sleeping habits had to do with anything, but he decided that Roman was probably still delirious with sleep. “Right,” Virgil said. “I should probably get out of your bed now. I mean,” he said, cheeks going red when Roman quirked an eyebrow at him. “I can go back to my own bed, I don’t have to stay in- I don’t mean- I’m going to go.”

Roman rolled over and snagged Virgil’s wrist before he could slide off. Virgil’s heart skipped a beat as he stopped to look down at the fingers keeping him in place. “Don’t,” Roman said. He still looked groggy. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” Virgil said, unaware of what to do with the hammering that had started up in his throat. This was  _ Roman _ . Virgil could always keep his cool around him, because he knew that was what infuriated Roman the most.

“That pleases me to hear,” Roman said. Virgil couldn’t tell where the sunlight was coming from.. There were no windows in Roman’s bedroom as far as he could see, but golden light touched Roman’s hair and backlit him with a glow that made him look, for the first time, as stately and heavenly as he liked to boast about.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” Virgil said when the silence began to stretch on. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You must stop apologizing,” Roman said with a frown. He hadn’t let go of Virgil’s wrist, but his grip had become less insistent. His fingers had slackened so he was just loosely holding Virgil. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Virgil was grateful when a knock at the door prevented him from responding, because he was certain all he would have been able to say now was “uhhhhhh,” and the last thing he wanted to do was  _ drool  _ at Roman. 

“Morning, kiddos!” Patton poked his head into the room, a glowing smile on his face. His gaze dropped to where Roman was still holding onto Virgil’s wrist, and Virgil, cheeks heating, yanked his hand away, feeling strangely guilty. “Glad you two are awake. I made waffles!” 

“Wonderful,” Roman said, teeth gleaming too white for the early morning. “Coming, Virgil?”

“Um,” Virgil said. His skin felt warm where Roman had touched him. He swallowed and ran his fingers over the curve of his wrist. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

X X X X X 

Virgil had just been starting to doze off when someone knocked on his door. He cracked open one eye and glared across the room before sighing and struggling into an upright position. “Come in,” he called, yanking out the one earbud he had in.

His door swung open, and to his surprise, Logan stepped into the room. He looked neat and freshly ironed, and he looked over the bundled up clothes on Virgil’s floor with a note of disdain. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Virgil said. “Is something wrong?”

Logan shook his head just once, sharply. He moved forward, stepping over a stray blanket that Virgil had thrown off himself  at one point, and then paused by the bed. “May I sit?”

“Uh,” Virgil said, sitting all the way up. “Sure.”

Logan sat primly on the edge of Virgil’s mattress. He had something small in his hands that Virgil couldn’t see, but he was turning it over and over in his hands, as though he were nervous.

“You are certainly the expert on anxiety disorders,” he said. Always right to the point. “So I don’t want to… overstep, and forgive me if my actions should so do that. But upon the realization that panic attacks are something that you deal with often, I conducted a fair amount of research of my own to see if there was anything I could do to help ease the symptoms of overstimulation.”

Virgil wrapped his arms around his knees and frowned at Logan. Logan was staring very resolutely at Virgil’s dirty floor.

“What I have found,” he continued, “is that there are certain types of music that have a high success rate for relaxing people in the throes of anxiety. Studies have shown that melodies that progress from low to high notes and have a constricted interval are more soothing than other kinds. Songs that have a clear and pleasant structure can help initiate feelings of security.

“I combed through multiple music platforms and analyzed different songs for these characteristics, and have compiled a collection of what I find to scientifically be the most soothing ones.” Logan held what he had been fiddling with out to Virgil. Virgil took it silently and looked at it. It was a small, black flashdrive. “Every song on there has been carefully chosen to meet a specific neurological need,” Logan said. He still wasn’t meeting Virgil’s eyes. “I know it isn’t nearly enough, but… you enjoy music, and in the very least, it could be pleasant to listen to. Although I hope that it might also offer some solace, should…” Logan cleared his throat. “Again. Please tell me if I have overstepped.” Virgil turned the flashdrive over in his hand, awestruck. There was no way that Logan could have actually put that much thought into this, was there?

“Logan…” he said. “I… don’t know what to say.”

For want of something to fiddle with, Logan reached out and tugged at a stray string sticking up from Virgil’s blanket. “I only hope that it will help.”

Virgil leaned over and placed the flash drive carefully on his bedside table next to his laptop. Then, after a moment of hesitation, reached out and touched the back of Logan’s hand, very briefly.

Logan looked up at him.

“Thank you,” Virgil said. “That… that is the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me.”

Logan’s lips quirked up bitterly. “That’s a pity,” he said.

Virgil swallowed and dropped his gaze. After a moment, Logan kept speaking.

“Virgil,” he said. His voice sounded slightly strained. “I am not good at expressing any kind of… emotions. That is certainly something that I have been working on recently, but my skills are not yet improved enough that I am able to express to you what I feel. I can tell you that you are extremely important to me, and I care about you as ardently as I do any of the others.”

“You shouldn’t let them hear that,” Virgil said with a weak attempt at a smile. “It would undermine the whole ‘relationship’ thing you have going on.”

Virgil wasn’t surprised when Logan’s frown just deepened. Jokes weren’t the proper way to deal with Logan, but Virgil was too confused to draw upon anything else.

“I… am not the one to be having a conversation like this with,” he said after a moment. “This should be brought up with Patton, or even Roman. Preferably Patton.”

“What should be brought up with them?”

Logan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. He forced a half-smile. “I hope that the music helps you, Virgil.”

“Thanks, Logan.”

Logan nodded and got up. “I do hope you’ll join us for dinner,” he said. “Patton is making lasagna.”

Virgil curled up against his pillows and watched Logan leave. “I will,” he whispered as he shut the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

“Uno!” Roman declared, laying a green two on the top of the deck.

“This game is not based on skill in the slightest,” Logan muttered, putting down a green eight. He had accumulated a rather hefty stack of cards, which he was trying to hide beneath the table.

“But it’s fun! Changing it to blue,” Patton said, playing a wild card.

Beside Virgil, Roman sat up straighter. Virgil hid a snort. Roman had the worst poker face.

“What a coincidence,” Virgil said, looking down at his own deck and pulling out a card. He tossed it onto the deck. “Draw four, Princey pie.”

Roman’s nostrils flared as he reached forward to take his cards from the deck. “I will let that slide because that is actually a very pleasant nickname,” he said.

“Changing it to yellow. Oh yeah, also, Uno,” Virgil said.

“You  _ bastard _ ,” hissed Roman.

“Perhaps this  _ is  _ fun,” Logan said, putting down a yellow card.

“As long as we all stop swearing,” Patton said, glancing over to where Roman was glaring at Virgil, who just smiled sweetly back. He laid down a reverse card, sending it back to Logan, who fished another yellow out of his stack.

“I’m not swearing,” said Virgil.

“You shut up right now Mr… gloomy guy.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows. “Wow.”

“I’m supposed to be nice to you,” muttered Roman angrily. He put down his card, changing the color to blue, and Virgil glanced at his last card.

“Well, you’re being  _ very _ nice to me,” he said, and played it. “I win.”

Roman threw his cards on the ground while Patton clapped. “Well done, Virgil!” he said. “Should we play again?”

“Absolutely not,” said Roman.

“He’s going to sulk for the rest of the night,” said Logan as he gathered the cards.

“I am not!” Roman crossed his arms and glared at him. “Besides, I think it’s about time to retire to bed.”

“But I’m not tired,” Patton said.

“We can watch a movie,” Roman said. He got to his feet and then offered a hand to Patton, who accepted it and giggled as he was pulled to his feet. “How does Bambi sound?”

“Cute,” Patton said, wrapping his arms around Roman’s neck and smiling up at him.

Virgil looked away when Roman went in to peck him on the nose. He picked up the rest of the cards and handed them to Logan, who slid them neatly into the box.

“Well,” Virgil said, standing up. “Goodnight, then.”

Patton frowned, turning in Roman’s arms to look at him. “Virgil, come watch with us!”

Virgil waved his hand with a grin. “No, it’s fine,” he said. “I don’t want to intrude. I’m tired, anyways.”

“Are you sure?” Roman asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Um… have fun, guys.”

He waved awkwardly, which was probably the worst thing he had ever done in the history of ever, and then turned and slunk off towards his room. When he reached the hallway he slipped into his corner of the mindscape and quickened his pace, not stopping until he was safely shut up in his room.

He grabbed his laptop off his bedside table and sat down on his bed, opening it up. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached over and carefully picked up the black flash drive as well. He plugged it into his computer. As he waited for it to boot up, he took his earbuds out of his pocket and untangled them, staring across the room at his closed bedroom door.

The others would be crawling into bed right now. Roman’s bed, surely. They would change into their soft-looking pajamas and climb in together. Patton would be cuddling, and so would Roman, probably. Virgil wondered, with a twist of his stomach, if Logan cuddled, too. If he was softer when he was around the people he loved.

When Virgil wasn’t there.

Virgil popped his earbuds in and queued up the first song. As the opening notes hit, he shut his eyes and took a long, slow breath. It was a piano rhapsody, one he didn’t recognize, but he tried to listen for the structure in it that Logan had been talking about. He was able to pick parts of it out; the notes, going from low and then gradually moving higher…

It would be dark in Roman’s room. The light from the television would play like moonlight against Roman’s skin.

The song started off slow, and then got increasingly more intense, moving along in a firm structure…

The cartoon animals would make Patton laugh, and smile lines would crease at the corner of his eyes.

The song slowed down, mirroring the pattern that had been established and leading to a pleasant ending…

Logan would call something on screen improbable, and comb his thin fingers through Patton’s hair, and Roman would say something about magic that would make Patton laugh again, and there would be smile lines, and the light would be like moonlight.

Virgil yanked the flash drive out. The music cut off, leaving him in silence. He stood, shoved his laptop off of his lap, and crossed over to his door. He needed a glass of water.

He yanked the door open and screamed.

“It’s us!” Roman put his hands up as a sign of peace, his eyes wide with surprise. Virgil put a hand over his pounding heart and looked from him to Patton to Logan, who were all crowded in the hall right outside of his room staring at him. 

“What the hell?” Virgil’s fight or flight response was still telling him to run. “Why are you all standing outside my room?”

“We were just about to knock,” Roman said. His cheeks were tinged with red. “We didn’t know you would scream like a  _ girl _ .”

“There’s nothing wrong with screaming like a girl,” Patton said, frowning at Roman. 

“But why…” Virgil frowned at the box in Roman’s arms. “Is that… a portable DVD player?”

“Ah, yes,” Roman said. “We stole-”

“Borrowed,” Patton said.

“- borrowed it from Thomas,” Roman said. 

“He won’t miss it,” Patton added.

“We thought that you might be more comfortable watching a movie in your own space rather than in one of ours,” Logan said, reaching up to adjust his glasses. “You are not obligated to, of course, but we wanted to make an additional option available to you.”

“And we don’t have to watch Bambi, either,” said Roman. “We can watch, uh… oh, goodness. What is it that emos watch nowadays?”

“You guys don’t have to do this,” Virgil said, growing marginally more alarmed with every word they said. He kept waiting for them to laugh and admit that this was just a joke to see if they could convince him to actually crawl out of his cave of darkness. 

“We know,” Patton said with a soft smile. “But we want your company, if you want ours.”

Of course Virgil did. But… “Wouldn’t- I mean, aren’t I interrupting, like… a date?”

They looked at each other, and there it was: the realization that he was right, that they didn’t actually want him spoiling their time.

“You wouldn’t be interrupting at all,” Patton said. “We really would like to spend time with you, Virgil, but don’t feel pressured to.”

Virgil hesitated. He clung to the door, which was still mostly closed, and glanced over his shoulder back into his room. The dark sheets of his bed were crumpled and unmade, but they harkened safety. He could say no, go back to them, and spend the rest of his night… 

Curled up in bed, listening to his anti-anxiety playlist and regretting his decision. 

They were just doing it to be nice, and he knew it, but Virgil was desperate enough to avoid that alternative that he was willing to leech off of their kindness.

“You shouldn’t stay in my room very long,” Virgil said, curling his fingers into the wood of the door. “It’s… not pleasant.”

Frown lines creased the corners of Logan’s lips. “We could go to the living room,” he said, “if that’s something you’re comfortable with?”

Virgil bit his lip briefly. “Are you… are you sure?”

“Positive,” Roman asked, shifting the DVD player in his arms. It was probably getting heavy, but he would never admit it. 

_ Say no say no they don’t want to spend time with you they’re just being nice say no _ . “Well… okay. I guess.”

The brilliant smile on Patton’s face made all of the awkward tension in the air worth it.

They moved into the living room, where Roman proceeded to open the box and begin taking out the DVD player despite the fact that they had a much larger, working television already set up.

“It seems a shame to waste it when we went through all the trouble to get it,” Roman said, shoving the box off the coffee table and holding the cord out to Logan. “Go find a plug.”

That led to a disagreement over extension cords, which bubbled over into an argument over how to turn the machine on. Virgil stood awkwardly apart from them, watching Logan’s quick one-liners and Roman’s grand hand gestures until Patton laid a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Wanna go make popcorn with me?” he asked, and Virgil bobbed his head so hard he felt his fringe flop.

He trailed after Patton into the kitchen, letting the sounds of the other two arguing fade out. Patton walked over to the cupboards and opened the top one, standing on his toes to rummage through the boxes of snacks and chips they had stockpiled away. Virgil leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, trying to look cool and disinterested even though he was anything but.

“They’re not really fighting,” Patton said, reemerging with a handful of plastic wrapped microwave popcorn packets.

“I know,” Virgil lied. Given his nature, verbal arguments were generally unavoidable, but they still made him anxious.

Plastic crinkled loudly as Patton unwrapped a packet and put it in the microwave, keying in the time. He turned and looked at Virgil, his smile ever-present and infectious. “I’m glad that you agreed to come out and watch,” he said. “Although I hope you aren’t getting sick of spending so much time with us.”

Virgil had to consciously remind himself not to gape in disbelief. How could he  _ ever  _ tire of spending time with them, especially when he had spent the first 95% of his existence alone? “I’m not.”

“Oh, good,” Patton said, and Virgil was further surprised to see he looked genuinely relieved. Behind him, the microwave whirred loudly. “Besides, things get boring without you around.”

Now Virgil knew that Patton was just being nice to him. He dropped his gaze and stared at his dark socks. “That can’t be true.”

The microwave beeped. When silence stretched and Patton made no move to open the door, Virgil glanced up to find the other side staring at him with a frown.

“Why would I lie about that?” Patton asked.

Virgil lifted his shoulders in a shrug. Patton waited for a further explanation. When none came, he thankfully let it go, turning to open the microwave and pull the bag out. 

“Ouch! Hot,” he said, wincing. He set it down on the counter and grabbed another packet, opening it loudly. “Would you mind grabbing a bowl, kiddo?”

Virgil scurried to make himself useful. He fished out a large bowl painted with goldfish that Thomas had been given for some birthday years ago, well aware that it was one of Patton’s favorites. He set it down and opened the first packet of finished popcorn, dumping it into the bowl. When the next one was finished, Patton handed it over, and Virgil added it to the other without a word. 

When the bowl was piled a little bit too high, Virgil picked it up. Patton tossed out the last bit of trash and turned to face Virgil, happy eyes on the mountain of popcorn.

“I’ve got one,” he said, reaching out to take a piece. He held it up between them, eyes shining behind his glasses. “What did one popcorn soldier say to the other?”

Virgil shifted his weight to the opposite foot, wondering what the best way to back away would be. Patton was so close to him that the popcorn bowl was nearly sandwiched chest to chest between them. “Uh, I don’t know,” he said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, kernel!”

Patton popped the popcorn in his mouth, lips splitting into a grin. Virgil forced himself to grimace to hide his own smile.

“Sorry,” Patton said, “too corny?”

Virgil’s lips twitched. He cleared his throat and looked down into the bowl, trying very hard not to laugh, because Patton’s sense of humor didn’t need any further encouragement. 

“That was bad,” he said.

“I know,” Patton said, not looking the least bit sorry. He cocked his head, expression turning thoughtful. “I like it when you smile,” he said. “It’s cute.”

Virgil physically felt blood rushing to his cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he was left gaping at Patton like one of the open-mouthed goldfish on the bowl.

Patton, for his part, just continued looking pleased with himself. 

“Come on,” he said. “It sounds like they’ve stopped arguing.”

Virgil followed Patton with the bowl, hanging his head low as they re-entered the living room so the other two wouldn’t be able to see his red face. It wasn’t necessary; they were huddled over the DVD player and a small collection of DVDs, and appeared to be still arguing.

“That movie is for children,” Logan was saying, his nose wrinkled with disdain.

“Finding Nemo is a  _ classic _ !” Roman snapped. “Besides, I think he’d much prefer it to reruns of  _ How It’s Made _ . When did we even get these?”

“It was a birthday present to myself,” Logan said stiffly. 

“What are we talking about?” Patton asked, reaching over to take a handful of popcorn.

“Ah,” Roman said, dropping the DVDs on the table. “Virgil, settle this. Would you prefer to watch a delightful family film set in an aquatic wonderland, or Logan’s silly science show?”

“It is not silly and it’s hardly science, you-”

“I’m, uh, actually fine with Bambi,” Virgil said. “If you guys are still down.”

Roman and Logan both blinked at him. “Oh,” Roman said. “Disney. I approve.”

“Really?” Logan wrinkled his nose.

“Virgil has spoken,” Roman said, plucking a DVD off of the pile. “Sit back and relax, four-eyes.”

“I love Bambi,” Patton said, happily falling back against the couch cushions. “The little animals are all so cute.”

“We’ll skip the middle part, then,” Logan muttered, so low that Virgil thought only he could hear it. 

Roman opened the DVD case, took out the disk, and transferred it over to the DVD player. As it started whirring, he sat back on the couch and lifted one arm, smirking at Logan. “Come, Grumpy Gus,” he said.

“Your slight is too general to have the ability to scathe,” Logan said, but to Virgil’s ever-growing surprise, he sat down next to Roman and leaned somewhat stiffly into his one-armed embrace. 

The DVD player showed the title screen prompting them to press play. Strains of classical music drifted out from the tiny speakers as Virgil stood awkwardly, unsure of where to sit. He glanced at his usual armchair, the one set slightly apart from the others. He wouldn’t be able to see the screen very well, but there wasn’t much space left on the couch. 

“Virgil?” Virgil turned back to Patton. The moral side’s arms were wide open, as though he was about to give a hug, and there was a pleasant smile on his face. 

Virgil hesitated. The music was still playing. He could feel Roman and Logan looking at him, their gazes curious and anticipatory, but Patton’s eyes were just- gentle. Virgil shouldn’t- they were being nice enough, he could sit on his own for the duration of a movie- but then he remembered how nice it had been the last time that he had allowed himself to indulge in Patton’s embrace. 

Could he really refuse?

Virgil walked forward slowly. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table next to the DVD player, then sat down close enough to Patton to be polite, but far enough to make it an awkward reach when Patton wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

And then Patton’s lips were so close to his ear that it made Virgil shiver when he spoke. “Relax.”

So Virgil relaxed.

Logan leaned forward and hit play on the DVD player as Virgil leaned against Patton, moving gingerly to avoid putting all his weight on him, which he was afraid would crush the other side. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Roman wave a hand and the lights dimmed. Virgil stared at the cartoon animals lighting up the screen and tried to focus on that instead of Patton’s arm around his shoulder, his fingers gently stroking up and down the sleeve of his hoodie, Logan and Roman’s weight dipping the couch cushion beside him. Virgil kept his arms crossed tightly, sitting stiffly even as Patton’s warmth invited him to decompress and soak it all in as he had done once before. If he shut his eyes like this, and listened to Roman and Logan eating popcorn and Patton’s soft giggles, he could feel himself falling back into that comforting space he had experienced only once before.

It was Patton. Virgil was sure that the moral side had some hidden ability to influence others’ emotions in a good way. He always seemed to know when Virgil was upset or tense, and whenever he held Virgil like he was doing now, Virgil found himself subconsciously calming down. He wondered if Patton even knew that he was doing it, or if it was a conscious effort he made to get Virgil to calm down. It probably made everything a bit more peaceful. Maybe that was why he did it, why he continued to offer this comfort to Virgil.

The thought made Virgil a little bit uncomfortable, but he was desperate enough for the pleasant weight of an arm around his shoulder to accept it for now. Virgil could hear voices from the movie but he wasn’t retaining much of it; eyes still shut, he felt his head tip further until it was resting on Patton’s shoulder. Patton made a soft humming sound and his hand drifted upwards to rest on the top of Virgil’s head, and then he ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair and Virgil melted.

Just as it had the last time, the motion sent warmth down Virgil’s spine, and almost against his will he felt his body relax into the touch. He felt the couch shifting beside him and a moment later felt something pressing against his thigh. Virgil cracked an eye open to see Logan curled up against Roman, his foot just brushing Virgil. Both of them were staring at the screen, seeming completely unaware of what was happening beside them.

Would they care? Was Virgil taking things too far? Patton was their boyfriend, after all, and Virgil was definitely not. Logically speaking (Logan would be proud of Virgil attempting to reason through the situation), Patton  _ should  _ be cuddling with them, and not Virgil. If they knew that, would they get jealous? Would they resent Virgil?

Virgil should get up out of respect, but it was hard when Patton was still stroking his hair and Logan’s sock-clad foot was a pleasant weight against his leg. The movie was playing and he could hear the others reacting to different parts of it. Patton laughed at stupid jokes and cooed at the cute scenes. Roman made noises of appreciation when music swelled in grandiose ways. Logan was mostly silent, but whenever Patton giggled or Roman hummed alongside the violins, his toes would curl against Virgil’s thigh.

And Virgil was in the center of it all, sandwiched by it, and it was the most comfortable he had ever been in his life.

He wondered absently- pointlessly- if this is what they felt like in their relationship. If they felt as at home all the time as he did at this second, if they were as hyper aware of each other as Virgil was of them. He had wondered about their relationship, of course, but he had never considered the specifics of it- or, rather, he had avoided thinking about it out of fear that he was intruding upon anything. Now, he allowed his mind to wander away from the movie and the warmth and into what was probably dangerous territory.

It was clear why they had all fallen for one another. Patton- warm, selfless, soft edges and golden smiles. Logan- shrewd, intelligent, quiet care wrapped in an endearing layer of awkwardness. Even Roman, whom Virgil had detested for so many years, had grown into someone that Virgil admired intensely, someone strong and handsome with eyes that made Virgil’s heart quicken. 

All of it made his heart quicken nowadays. When Patton’s fingers combed carefully through his hair, ever-patient and understanding, When Logan’s lips quirked up in a half-smile that he tried to hide, or when Roman brushed against Virgil’s shoulder when passing him in the hall. It was the newness of it all, Virgil was sure. But- the newness of what? Virgil was, at most, their friend, and even that was pushing it. Virgil was someone that they tolerated. It didn’t matter what his feelings were towards them, even if they were warm and fuzzy and- 

And exactly the feelings Thomas had described experiencing in all of his relationships.

The warmth in Virgil’s body disappeared as though he had been doused in ice water, and sharp stiffness shot through him.  _ Oh, no.  _

Oh. No. 

Patton leaned in close and whispered “You okay?”, and Virgil felt disgusted with himself when he had to repress a shiver at the feeling of Patton’s breath on his ear, so disgusted with himself that Virgil thought he might puke, because  _ oh no oh no oh no oh no _ .

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up. “I’m going to get water.”

“We’ll pause it,” Roman said. Logan had curled up with his head in Roman’s lap, but his eyes were on Virgil. Virgil could see the glint of his glasses through the semi-darkness.

“No,” Virgil said. Then, because that was too abrupt, “I’ve already seen it, it’s fine.”

“Want company?” Patton asked as Virgil stood up.

“No,” Virgil said again. He didn’t have the strength to explain himself this time. He just turned and walked away towards the kitchen.

Out of view of the living room, he turned on the lights and took a long, shaky breath, trying to prevent himself from panicking in case the other sides sensed it.  _ Oh no oh no oh no _ . This was bad, really bad, and this was why Virgil had never let himself think too long about their relationship in the first place. He pressed his fingers against his closed eyes and tried to steady himself. He couldn’t freak out, not when the others were right in the other room waiting for him to come back. He had to keep it together. He had to breathe.

“Virgil?”

Virgil jumped even though he shouldn’t have been surprised that one of them had thought it necessary to come after him. When he turned, Logan was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, head cocked with curiosity. Virgil’s eyes caught on the sharp cut of his jaw and his slim frame and the way his glasses were so perfectly suited to his face- and then dropped his gaze to the floor in shame, hoping his cheeks weren’t reddening. How had he not realized until now?

“I thought you were getting water,” Logan said. If Virgil hadn’t been red before, he certainly was now.

“I am,” he said. After a moment, he said, “Sorry,” and turned to open a cupboard, reaching for a glass with a shaking hand.

“Don’t apologize,” said Logan. Virgil felt his eyes on him as he walked over to the sink and turned on the tap, filling his cup. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” Virgil said. He lifted his glass and took several gulps, hoping it would help calm him, then turned on the sink again to refill it. 

“If something’s wrong, you can tell us.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Virgil said. He turned around, full water cup in hand, and pressed his lower back against the counter. He felt the sharp edge of it through his hoodie, and wished that he was back in his room, alone, so he could process all of this. “Um… Logan?”

“Yes?”

He only wanted to ask because this was Logan, and Logan was logical, and would probably assume that Virgil was just coming at this from a place of curiosity.

Which he was.

“Are… are the three of you… are you all in love?”

Virgil felt the anxious voice inside of him recoil when Logan frowned sharply.  _ What kind of loser asks something like that?  _ it hissed at him.  _ Mind your own business, Virgil, or else you’re going to annoy them or weird them out. _

“Well,” Logan said. “I… don’t know if it’s appropriate for me to talk on behalf of the other two.”

“Are… are you? In love with them?” When Logan didn’t say anything, Virgil binked back hot tears of frustration that were pooling in the back of his eyes and said, “You don’t have to answer, sorry, that’s not something I should be asking.”

“No, it’s fine,” Logan said. He didn’t sound angry. “I… suppose I am. Why?”

Virgil’s heart bubbled in his chest. “I was just curious,” he said. He tapped his finger against the side of his glass. “How do you know if you’re in love?”

“It’s different for everyone,” Logan said. He still had that look of intense curiosity on his face, like everything Virgil said fascinated him. He had that face on a lot. “Scientifically speaking, there are certain signs of attraction that can be classified as ‘love.’ Increased dopamine production can lead to higher levels of happiness, sleeplessness, and augmented emotions. This can also create certain feelings of possessiveness to attempt to retain the companionship of the person causing these positive neurological effects.”

“Right,” Virgil said, his heart sinking. He was always sleepless, and his emotions were always all over the place, so he didn’t think any of this truly applied to him. But still, there was a glimmer of familiarity in Logan’s words that made Virgil’s stomach twist.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Virgil repeated. 

Logan cocked his head. Virgil expected further probing, but the other side just said, “Are you coming back to watch the movie?”

Virgil didn’t want to. He wanted to go to his bedroom and try to make sense of it all. But they had tried so hard to get him to come out, to include him in something he had clearly wanted to do.  _ How obvious has he been these past few days? Was this why they had been making the extra effort? Because they pitied him and his feelings?  _

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Um.” He took another sip of his water and set it on the counter, then followed Logan back out into the dimly lit living room.

Logan set a course for his spot on the couch next to Roman, and when Virgil entered, Patton looked up with an expectant smile. Virgil attempted to smile back- it came out a grimace- and said, “Actually, I think I’m getting a cold. I don’t want to get you guys sick. I’ll sit over here.”

Patton’s smile melted into a frown. “I don’t mind, kiddo,” he said.

“No, really,” Virgil said, sitting down in his usual armchair. He drew his legs in close and wrapped his arms around his knees, aware that the other three were staring at him strangely. He knew he looked strange. He knew he was acting strange. He couldn’t care right now, because it was better than the alternative: leeching more out of the comfort they offered him than they intended. 

“Well, if you’re sure,” said Patton, doubtful. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Virgil nodded. He wouldn’t. 

When they started the movie again, Virgil redoubled his efforts to focus on that instead of the others. It was nearly impossible. In his absence, Patton had scooted closer to the other two, so that Logan was being held on both sides. Patton and Roman linked hands above his head. They fell into place, slotted together like a puzzle, and Virgil had never felt more apart from them. It was how it was meant to be, but every time Virgil glanced over at them a sharp pain spiked through his chest. When Bambi’s mother died and Patton started sniffing, the other two swooped in with touches and whispers that made Virgil’s chest clench. 

They didn't move when the movie ended. Roman’s eyes were closed, and his head had lolled to rest on top of Logan’s. Patton, too, looked sleepy and too comfortable to move. They hardly looked up when Virgil stood. 

“Goodnight,” he said, inching away.

Logan looked at him. Roman blinked, his movements heavy, and god, even half-asleep he looked dashing.  _ What kind of word is dashing? _

“Virgil!” he said. On the other side of Logan, Patton stirred, swiveling his head to look at Virgil. “Did you enjoy the film?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Thanks for, uh, getting me. I’ll see you all… later.”

“Goodnight, Virgil!” Patton beamed at him. Virgil just looked away. 

“Goodnight,” he muttered, and slunk away back to his bedroom.

Virgil didn’t get any sleep that night. He spent the hours staring up at his dark ceiling, thinking about Patton’s smile and Roman’s jawline and Logan’s eyes, and how disgusted he was with himself for even entertaining those thoughts.

He didn’t even bother to put on any music.

X X X X X

Virgil didn’t think the others had even noticed him withdrawing from them in the following days. Or, if they did, they were too relieved about it to comment.

He still went out into the kitchen when he was hungry and made casual conversation with them when prompted, and he participated in videos and put on his usual snarky attitude for show. But he declined their offers for games, for movies, for cooking with them or joining them for a special dinner. He spent more time in his room, and when they came knocking he pretended that he was asleep. When Patton asked him for the third time if he was okay, with big brown eyes and a frown, Virgil shrugged him off and said “I’m  _ fine _ , Pat, stop asking,” and had to remind himself that he was doing it for them when Patton looked hurt.

It was for them. After Virgil had realized his feelings towards them- feelings he could hardly admit to himself- he had also realized how selfish it was of him to take advantage of their kindness. They wouldn’t stop offering to include him in aspects of their relationship they would prefer to keep quiet, because that was who they were, and Virgil felt a swell of affection whenever one of them invited him to do something with them. But it wasn’t fair, because now Virgil knew that he wanted more, more than they could ever give to him, and they weren’t even  _ aware  _ of it. It was like Virgil was stealing from their relationship, in a way.

No. Virgil needed to stay away until, hopefully, these feelings passed. 

Except they weren’t passing. Virgil still got butterflies when Roman smiled at him and his spine tingled when Logan smirked and he felt a great rush of warmth whenever Patton touched his arm in the passing, and he realized with horror that these feelings weren’t passing- they were growing. Day by day, Virgil fell a little bit more in love with them, and the knowledge that these feelings could never, ever be reciprocated made him pull at his hair in the early mornings and brought angry tears to his eyes that made him run out of the room whenever they showed affection to each other. 

Virgil should say something to them. It was only fair that they know so they could make their own decisions on how best to act around him, on whether they still wanted to attempt a friendship with him if he was going to insist on complicating things. But he couldn’t, because the thought of them pulling away from him made him scared him.. 

Virgil was sitting in his bedroom trying not to think about the others, who were probably curled up together in Roman’s room watching a movie at this time, when he was hit by a wave of panic so intense that he physically groaned out loud. He sat up in bed and put his head in his hands, taking a slow, deep breath.

He couldn’t have another panic attack. The others would sense it and they would come running, and he would put them in another awkward position.

Virgil glanced over at his bedside table. The black flashdrive that Logan had given him was still there. After a moment’s hesitation, he rolled over and picked it and his laptop off, plugged it in, then pulled his earbuds out of his pocket while he waited for his computer to boot up.

When it was ready, Virgil clicked on the file and put the earbuds in. He pressed play and closed his eyes, trying to calm his rapid heart rate.

The chords of a violin stuck up. Virgil had memorized this song, could hum it in his sleep, and normally it calmed him. Now the anticipation of the crescendo made his heart hammer all over again.

Virgil yanked the flash drive back out. The music cut off, leaving him in silence. He stood, shoving his laptop off of his lap, and crossed over to his door.

He needed a glass of water.

The hallway was quiet, but as he approached the commons, he began to hear voices. He slowed with a frown.

“...doing more harm than good,” Logan was saying. Virgil stopped in the hallway just shy of the entrance to the living room, pressing himself into the shadows. “It feels as though we’re stringing him along.”

“That’s not true at all,” Patton said sharply.

“I quite agree with Logan,” Roman said. “It’s not pleasant for us. Think about how it must feel for him.”

“I don’t think that Virgil is aware of it at all,” Logan said, and Virgil’s heart jumped. “Which is precisely the problem.”

“The problem is that he is very emotionally unstable right now,” Patton said. He sounded upset. “We can’t do anything too quickly.”

“You’re babying him,” said Roman. “I say we just come out and tell him.”

“Of course you do!” said Patton. “You always want to charge into stuff like this, but we need to think about his feelings as well.”

“With all due respect, Patton, we have been,” Logan said. “At this point, it would be kinder to just tell him, before this all goes too far.”

The voices were fading before Virgil could even realize that he was backing away. He turned and hurried back to his own room. As he shut his door quietly, his breaths came out faster, heaving in his chest, clawing to get out. Sharp tears poked his eyes.

“Calm down,” he muttered to himself, pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes. “Calm down, you don’t even know what they were talking about.”

Except, he did know. He knew they had been talking about him. They had called him by name.

_ I don’t think that Virgil is aware of it at all. _ What could they be talking about? Was it something to do with Thomas? Was it a new video idea that they had?

_ He is very emotionally unstable right now _ . This was all Virgil’s fault. He had broken down in front of them too often, and now they thought he was too weak to handle any kind of serious discussion. They probably had a point, but it still hurt.

_ It would be kinder to just tell him, before this all goes too far _ .

They knew.

Virgil stopped breathing. He reached out, feeling for the blankets on his bed, and sat down, trying to open his lungs and get some air. That had to be it. They knew that he had feelings for them, and they were too nice to let him down.

_ Or they’re scared of you running off again _ , hissed that voice in Virgil’s head.  _ You hurt Thomas when you left him alone. They can’t have that happening again, can they? _

But Virgil wouldn’t do that. He hadn’t known that it would cause any harm. He thought he had been helping.

_ They don’t know that. They think you’ll do it again if they tell you they don’t want you.  _

It made painful sense. Virgil pressed his hand over his mouth to muffle the first sob that came out. He had to do something, had to clear this situation up so things could go back to the way they were before, back when they didn’t care enough about Virgil to pay attention to his emotions. Maybe then he would be able to get over them.

He had to tell them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for all your lovely comments!! Let me know what you think below xoxo


	4. Chapter 4

Virgil dragged himself out of bed when lunch had long passed and peeked into the commons. It was empty. He shut his eyes and reached out with his mind, trying to feel for the prickle that informed him of the other sides’ presences, and- there they were, in Logan’s room.

Virgil slipped into Logan’s corner and reached out to knock on his bedroom door. Then he paused as he realized what he could be interrupting. He bit his lip, and took a deep breath. If he didn’t do it now, he might not get the courage together to do it later.

He knocked.

“Come in,” called a voice, and Virgil turned the doorknob.

Virgil stopped in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of him. He hadn’t been in Logan’s bedroom before, as there had never been reason for it, but he hoped that this wasn’t what it looked like all the time. The walls were painted in shades of blue, and in one corner there was an almost childish poster of Albert Einstein. The furniture was plain black and streamlined, and there were hardly any other decorations aside from empty bookshelves. The floor, however, was littered with piles and piles of books.

“Virgil!” Patton popped up from behind a large stack of textbooks, beaming.

Roman was hauling a stack of books from one side of the room to the other. He grunted, tossing his head to flip hair out of his eyes. “Sleeping Beauty finally joins us,” he said. “Come over and help.”

“Help with… what, exactly?” Virgil asked.

“We are rearranging my bookshelves,” Logan said. He picked up a book and flipped through it briefly before tossing it into one of two piles he had created. “I’m cleaning out the ones I don’t need. It’s something I’ve been trying to get Thomas to do for years.”

“Thomas doesn’t have any books,” Roman said.

Logan sighed, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Yes. I know.”

“Anyways, Virgil, you can help _me_ ,” Roman said. “I’m taking everything from Logan’s keep pile and bringing them over to the shelves to stack them back up. Alphabetically, right?”

“And by genre,” said Logan.

“Aw, this one’s about dogs,” Patton said with a smile, flipping through a copy of _Where the Red Fern Grows_.

Logan leaned over and plucked it out of his hands. “That one’s not for you.”

“Um,” Virgil said, “I can help- I mean, I will- I just- I wanted to talk to you guys about something, first?”

“We’re all ears, kiddo,” Patton said. He picked up a copy of _Animal Farm_ and looked at it curiously.

“Well, you guys have been- really nice to me since the Accepting Anxiety video, and I really appreciate that.”

Roman set down his books and leaned against an empty shelf, looking at Virgil in confusion.

“And thank you,” Virgil continued hurriedly. “But… I heard you guys talking last night. I know what it’s about.”

Logan set down the book he was holding, looking at Virgil over his glasses. “You do,” he said, sounding doubtful.

“Oh, Virgil,” Patton said, dropping _Animal Farm_ , “I’m really sorry. We didn’t know how to tell you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Virgil said, his heart sinking. It was true. They did know. He wrapped his arms around himself, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing, Virgil,” Roman said, frowning.

“No, it is,” Virgil said, “and it wasn’t fair to you all.”

“Virgil,” Logan said, forehead creased in a frown. “What are you talking about?”

Virgil drew his shoulders up, wishing that he could hunch down far enough to sink back into the floor. This wasn’t something he could run away from, though. They knew that he wanted more from them then they had ever intended to offer, and now they were going to make him say it out loud. Why? To punish him?

Virgil opened his mouth to admit it, but instead he said, “It’s wrong.”

“Excuse me?” Roman’s voice was harsh, and Virgil flinched, dropping his gaze to the floor. Here it came.

“Roman.” Logan, ever stable, seemed to silence Roman with a single word, and Virgil let himself feel a small, hesitant glimmer of hope. Maybe Logan would take pity on him, wouldn’t want to draw the ridicule out.

Virgil didn’t look up even though he knew Logan had come closer to him. “Virgil,” he said, his tone calm and almost gentle, as though he were approaching a wounded animal. “Can you please tell me what you think you heard?”

Virgil blinked back burgeoning, humiliated tears. “You all know about…” He physically bit his tongue, feeling the sharp ache of it.

“About?” Logan prompted.

Virgil had to get it over with. He shut his eyes over his tears as though that might help lessen the impact of it. “I have feelings for you.” Even though his voice was hardly above a whisper, it sounded like a shout in the silent room.

After a quiet moment, Patton said, “For- for Logan?”

Virgil jerked his head. Yes.

“And Patton and Roman as well?” Logan asked.

Another jerk. Yes.

None of them said anything.

Virgil had to fill the silence, had to explain himself before this whole thing spiraled and he lost the three most important people in his life and oh god he would have to spend the remainder of his life alone and humiliated and shunned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to, and I wish I- I totally understand if you’re upset, or if you never want to talk to me again, and I promise I’ll leave you all alone, I’ll go away and we can forget all about this and I’ll try to get over it, I’ll really try, I promise-”

“Virgil.”

Virgil opened his eyes, but couldn’t raise them quite yet. He stared at the pair of shoes in front of him. Old, worn Vans with Sharpie smiley faces drawn along the toes. They took a step towards him and Virgil flinched, anticipating his punishment.

“Oh- oh, Virgil, honey, no, I’m not going to-” When Virgil chanced a peek, Patton’s eyes were wide with horror, and his face was twisted into something Virgil recognized as heartbreak. Behind him, Roman and Logan shared similar expressions.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil whispered. He had done it this time. He had managed to hurt all three of them in the most intimate way possible. _Disgusting_ , whispered the voice in Virgil’s head. _Pitiful loathsome dirty wrong wrong wrong wrong._

“Virgil, darling. Can you look at me?” asked Patton. Virgil did, because it was the least he could do. He met Patton’s wide eyes and forced himself to stay still when Patton took another, more cautious step forward, reaching out for Virgil’s hands. His fingers brushed Virgil’s wrists, and when Virgil didn’t pull away, he gently wrapped them around his hand, holding on loosely. His touch was warm and sent the same electricity it always had up Virgil’s arms. _Dirty wrong wrong wrong-_

“It’s okay,” Patton said. “Honey, you don’t ever have to apologize for your feelings. We will never be upset at you for feeling anything, alright? We’re not upset now, and we never will be. We had no idea that you felt this way, otherwise we would have tried to talk to you about it sooner.”

Virgil’s stomach twisted. “You didn’t? But- but then what were you talking about?”

“We were… well.” Patton was running his thumb across Virgil’s knuckles in what was most likely meant to be a soothing manner, but that only made Virgil’s heart rate quicken. “It’s a little bit funny, really. We were talking about our feelings towards _you_.”

“What feelings?”

“We were discussing how best to tell you that we harbor romantic attraction towards you,” Logan said.

Patton’s thumbs were rubbing soothing circles into Virgil’s wrists. Virgil stared numbly at Logan. “What?”

“We- all three of us,” Roman said, “have feelings for you. We have for a while now, but it seems that traditional, subtle courtship was not the way to approach you.”

Virgil was already shaking his head before Roman had finished speaking. “No,” he said. “No, you can’t…”

“We do,” said Patton.

“But-” Virgil tried to focus on the heat of Patton’s hands, but even that felt overwhelming to him. “Since when?”

“Patton says he’s been in love with all of us for years,” Roman said.

“You’re just all so amazing,” Patton said, gaze still fixed worriedly on Virgil.

“Logan said that he developed an interest in you shortly after we got together, and I… well, I only realized it recently. When I woke up in bed with you after your panic attack, I think.” Roman’s lips quirked up sadly. “But it wasn’t much of a surprise for me.”

Virgil could feel the beginnings of adrenaline leaking into his veins, his heart beating quicker, his breathing starting to stutter. _Not now not now feelings romantic not now_.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“Do what?” Logan asked, frowning.

“I don’t expect you to return my feelings,” Virgil said, looking at each of them in turn, unable to hold a single gaze for longer than a few seconds. “I- I know you all don’t, so you don’t have to try and- and make me feel better, or-”

“But we’re not!” Patton’s grip tightened, his expression suddenly frantic. “We’re not saying it to make you feel better, we’re telling you the truth, Virgil. We’ve had feelings for you for a long time, but we thought they weren’t reciprocated.”

Virgil shook his head, sucking in a quick breath.

“Virgil,” Patton said. “Can I kiss you?”

Virgil stopped breathing.

He stared at Patton, who met his gaze with a furrowed brow and a determination that had been absent before. The room was silent.

“Virgil?” Patton prompted after a moment.

“You don’t have to,” Virgil whispered.

“I know,” Patton said. “Will you let me?”

_Wrong wrong he’s lying pity lying lying._ Virgil nodded, once.

Patton let go of Virgil and brought his hands up instead to cup Virgil’s cheeks. He ran a thumb along Virgil’s cheekbone. The skin tingled under his touch. Patton was gazing at him from behind his glasses with open wonder, eyes bright and lips slightly parted, and then- and then he was leaning in, and his eyes were closing, and at the last second Virgil closed his too, because wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? It was what he had seen in movies but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with his hands so he let them hang at his side as he felt Patton’s soft breath on his lips and then-

And then Patton’s lips pressed against Virgil’s, smooth and gentle, undemanding. Virgil stayed still as Patton moved his lips, slotting them together, and Virgil felt a hand come up and stroke back his hair, and he made an unconscious noise as emotion bubbled up in his chest.

Patton pulled away. _Now you’ve done it_ , Virgil thought to himself, _you did it wrong, you messed up_ , but Patton’s hands were still on his cheeks, and then he said, “Oh, Virgil, honey, come here.”

Virgil’s shoulders shook with the first sob as Patton wrapped his arms around him and drew him close, making small shushing noises meant to comfort. Virgil brought his hands up to cover his face, humiliated by the emotions he was failing to suppress.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into Patton’s cardigan-covered shoulder.

“Never apologize.” Patton’s voice was as firm as the hand he was pressing against Virgil’s back. “Never, ever apologize for your emotions. It’s alright, Virgil. You’re alright.”

“Move the books,” Virgil heard Logan mutter, and then some shifting, and then Patton was leading him over to Logan’s bed and helping him sit down, all the while keeping his arms wrapped around him. Virgil kept his face hidden in the relative safety of Patton’s shoulder even as he sank down into the mattress.

Virgil had just had his first kiss.

And now he was sobbing in front of all three of the people he liked.

This was an impressive fuck up even for _him_.

“Oh, honey.” Patton’s fingers moved to Virgil’s hair, stroking it the way he liked it, and then he pressed his lips softly to Virgil’s forehead, barely skimming his skin. White hot heat spread from the point of contact, and Virgil shivered. A moment later he felt a blanket settling over his bare feet.

“Virgil.”

Virgil sniffed and raised his face from Patton’s shoulder. Logan had taken a seat on the edge of the mattress next to him, uncharacteristic concern wrinkling his forehead. Roman hovered behind him, twisting his hands together, looking uncertain as to what he should be doing.

“It might benefit this conversation if we better knew precisely why you are crying,” Logan said.

“Let him be, Logan,” Roman said, crossing his arms.

“I’m trying to help.”

“He’s obviously upset, this isn’t the time to analyze him.”

“It’s fine,” Virgil cut in, tightness clawing at his throat. He was already causing problems. “I’m, um- I’m okay, really. I think it’s just- Thomas has been emotional over this new guy he’s seeing, and I’m his anxiety so I’ve been kind of working overtime, and it might have just all bubbled over into this.”

Patton’s finger crawled up to brush a strand of hair out of Virgil’s eye. The motion was so intimate it sent another shiver through Virgil, which he hid by shifting his feet underneath the blue blanket they had laid across him.

“I don’t think that’s true, Virgil,” Patton said softly.

Virgil sniffed and looked down, His eyes still felt warm and that familiar sadness was rising steadily in him, but he was calm enough now where he mostly felt awkward about the whole thing.

And terribly, terribly confused.

“Virgil, there is one thing that we have to clarify,” Logan said. He leaned forward, his face earnest. “You seem to think that we are telling you about our attraction to you to lessen your own perceived embarrassment about your feelings, but that’s an _absolute_ falsehood. We have been making advances towards you for weeks.”

Virgil frowned, trying to think back to when that could have possibly happened. “But-”

“I wanted to cuddle with you because… I _wanted_ to,” Patton said, lips quirking up in a half-smile. “And because you’re soft and warm and cute when you’re cuddly.”

“I thought I was being quite clear with my own feelings,” Roman said with a haughty sniff. Off a look from Logan, he rolled his eyes and said, “Alright, I was trying to be subtle about it so I wouldn’t scare you off. But you certainly must have sensed that I wanted to spend time with you?”

Virgil was still frowning, but mostly because he was still stuck on the ‘cute’ comment. How the hell could anyone consider him _cute_?

“But- okay,” he said. Reason. Logan would respond to reason. “Even if you guys do have- feelings- for… me, you surely have to see that it’s not a good idea.”

Logan quirked an eyebrow at him. Virgil rushed to continue.

“I’ll just ruin everything,” Virgil said, “like I always do. That’s my _job_ , I’m meant to ruin things. Surely you don’t want  that.”

“Honey, you’re being silly,” Patton said, brushing his fingers over Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil scowled and sat up, ignoring the way Patton’s face fell into disappointment and the way it made his own chest clench.

“I am _not_ ,” Virgil snapped. “I’m already making things more complicated than they need to be.”

“Only because your insecurities are overriding your logic,” Logan said.

“Maybe your logic is being overridden as well!”

“Not five minutes ago you were telling us that you had feelings for us,” Roman said with a sharp frown. Virgil was relieved to see it. That was something that he was used to, something he could work with. “Now you’re trying to convince us that we should- what, stay away from you?”

“Five minutes ago I thought you _hated_ me!” Virgil snapped.

Roman’s face closed. He stared at Virgil for a long moment, his eyes wide but blank, and Virgil stared back. He felt his hands shaking and tried to surreptitiously slip them beneath the blanket to hide them.

Without a word, Roman turned on his heel and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Virgil flinched at the sharp sound. Patton didn’t make a move to try and grab Virgil again, but Virgil could tell from the way that his fingers twitched that he wanted to.

“Oh, dear,” Logan said. He didn’t sound terribly upset. “He’s off to sulk.”

“What is he so upset about?” Virgil asked.

“That’s for another day,” Patton said. “Are you alright?”

Virgil frowned at him. He had stopped crying, hadn’t he? “I’m fine,” he said. “Aren’t you guys going to go after Roman?”

“Roman will be fine,” Logan said. “You’re the one who needs us right now.”

“But Roman’s your…” Virgil hesitated. “You’re supposed to go after him.”

“We care about you just as much as we do Roman,” Patton said. “We all care about each other equally.”

“But I’m not in a relationship with you.”

“Virgil.” This time, Patton did reach out to touch him. He cupped Virgil’s cheeks with his fingers, keeping the touch light. “We _want_ you to be in a relationship with us. We haven’t approached you directly because we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But we would like to explore that option with you.”

Virgil managed to resist pulling away because he knew that that would hurt Patton. As it was, he felt warmth welling in his eyes again, and blinked it away. “I- I-”

“Virgil.” Patton dropped his hands and Logan slid closer, bringing one knee up to tuck it underneath him. “We will never coerce you into doing something you don’t want to do. If you don’t want to be in a relationship with us, that’s fine. We won’t be angry. But we do want to communicate to you that that option is available, and it is the preferred one for all of us.” He reached out and laid a hand on Virgil’s knee. Virgil stared at it in surprise; Logan _never_ touched him. Aside from Patton, no one touched him at all.

“We don’t want to rush you, either,” Patton said. “You can decide later.”

“Won’t Roman be upset?” Virgil asked, his voice hardly above a whisper.

“Roman’s departure was ill-timed,” Logan said, “but I promise you that he shares the same sentiments that we do. He is dealing with other issues at the moment, but he would be overjoyed if you decided to give us a chance.”

That wasn’t the problem. Couldn’t they see the problem? Virgil would have thought it obvious. “I’ll ruin it,” he said. “I ruin everything. I’m Anxiety.” He winced when his voice cracked on the old title, hot shame rushing through him.

“Stop that.” Patton’s voice was firmer than Virgil had ever heard. Virgil looked at him to find the other side’s eyes had narrowed into something akin to a glare. “Virgil, you are so much more than that. You’re- you’re funny and sarcastic and protective and kind and cute as a button-”

“We enjoy your company,” Logan interrupted. Virgil was grateful, because he was certain his cheeks were bright red at this point. “If you enjoy ours, we would like it if you gave a relationship a chance. Of course we can’t guarantee that nothing will go wrong, but we aren’t scared, Virgil.”

Logan’s hand felt heavy on Virgil’s knee. Virgil shut his eyes and drew upon the comfort of it, tried to let it steady him.

Oh, god. Was he considering this?

“Virgil?” Virgil opened his eyes at Patton’s prompt. Patton’s eyebrows were drawn together, his expression vulnerable and hopeful. “Would you like to try being in a relationship with us?”

“If I ruin it,” Virgil said at a whisper. “Please don’t hate me.”

Logan’s fingers curled into the blanket on Virgil’s knee. “Never,” he said.

Virgil swallowed, then gave a sharp nod. “Okay.”

Patton let loose a noise that was half between a coo and a cry of joy. He bounced where he sat and started to move forward, then stopped. “Can I hug you?” he asked.

Virgil couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He nodded, and Patton made the noise again- yes, it was definitely more of a coo- and jumped at him, throwing his arms wide to capture Virgil in them. Virgil laughed and fell back against the pillows. His head hit the headboard in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable, but Patton’s breath was warm on his cheek and Logan was smiling down at both of them in a way that made Virgil’s heart quicken

Even if he messed this up, Virgil thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut when he felt Patton press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Even if this all fell apart, at least he will have had this much.

X X X X X

When Virgil began to shift with discomfort and Patton’s stomach grumbled, Patton rubbed Virgil’s arm and said, “Let’s make dinner!”

“I’ll get Roman,” Logan said, sliding off of the bed and stepping over the books to get to the door.

Patton untangled himself from where he had been sitting mostly on top of Virgil for the last ten minutes and stood up. He turned back towards Virgil and held out one hand, a brilliant smile on his face.

“Come on,” he said when Virgil hesitated. Virgil took a deep breath and reached out, taking Patton’s hand in his own, feeling the warmth of it shoot up his arm, and let Patton pull him to his feet.

“I don’t want to rush you,” Patton said, facing him squarely. His expression was serious. “I know that I threw that kiss at you earlier without warning. I’m really sorry.”

“No,” Virgil said, his heartbeat quickening. That had been the best kiss of his life- the only kiss of his life- and even though the idea of doing it again made Virgil want to squirm, he didn’t want Patton to think he had forced it on him. “No, it’s fine. It… it was good.”

A sly smile quirked Patton’s lips. “Can I do it again?”

Virgil opened his mouth and paused. His instinct was to say no, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to. There was something addictive about the warm press of lips on his.

Instead, he nodded. Patton’s smile widened and he took a step forward, toeing aside a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ so he could reach up and cup Virgil’s face with both hands. He leaned forward, eyes slipping shut, and at the last second Virgil mirrored him, holding perfectly still as Patton pressed their lips together again.

Patton tilted his head so his lips reached new angles. Virgil opened his mouth a touch, trying to get engaged in it as well, but yanked his head back when he felt Patton’s tongue dart out and brush his bottom lip.

“Sorry!” Patton’s eyebrows drew together, his hands held up in a show of surrender.

“No- no.” Virgil’s heart was pounding. His cheeks felt warm. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice muffled. “I’m just… I’m not used to this. I’m probably horrible at it.”

“Hey.” Patton’s fingers brushed his, drawing his hands away from his face. “Was that your first kiss earlier?”

Virgil swallowed. He nodded.

“Oh.” Patton’s smile was soft. “I mean, I figured, but… well. I’m honored, Virgil. And as long as you’re okay with it, I would like to continue helping you learn more about it.”

Virgil nodded again.

“Good,” Patton said. “Come on. Let’s go get dinner.”

He turned towards the door and began picking his way across the room. Virgil followed him, and drew to a stop at the door when Patton did.

“Oh,” Patton said, glancing at him over his shoulder. “And for the record, you are _not_ bad at kissing. At all.”

Virgil was glad that Patton didn’t look at him again until they reached the living room. It gave him time to try and bring his complexion back under control.

Roman and Logan were talking in low voices in the kitchen. Virgil couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying as he and Patton approached, and they stopped abruptly when the two of them appeared in the doorway.

“Well, hello, you two!” Patton moved forward and wrapped his arms around Roman, who accepted the chaste kiss Patton pressed to his lips. Virgil couldn’t help but look away. Even though he had been on the receiving end of that kiss only minutes ago, it still felt too intimate for _him_ to watch.

Virgil heard Patton switch over to Logan, and chanced a glance up at Roman only to find that the other side was already staring at him. Virgil bit back a grimace and searched his face for any sign of irritation or anger that Virgil had been invited into their relationship without his approval. All he found, however, was blank politeness.

“I’m very happy that you’ve decided to give a relationship with us a chance, Virgil,” Roman said.

It was stiff, so Virgil said back just as stiffly, “I am too.”

Patton and Logan certainly sensed the tension in the air, but they both disregarded it. Patton clapped his hands together, drawing attention back to him.

“What are we making?” he asked.

“We have chicken,” Logan said. “We should eat that before it spoils.”

“Dull,” said Roman. “This is a night of celebration! We must make something far grander. I was thinking filet mignon.”

“We don’t _have_ filet mignon,” Logan said.

“I can conjure it!”

“Why don’t we ask Virgil what _he_ wants,” Patton said in a very pointed voice. He smiled at Virgil, who was resisting the urge to shift nearer to the doorframe. “Virgil?”

The other two looked at him expectantly. Virgil shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, dropped his gaze to the ground, and shrugged. “I don’t care,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

“You have to have some preference,” Logan said.

“Might I recommend the filet mignon?”

“Come on, Virgil!” Patton coaxed. “We want to learn more about you. What’s your favorite food in the whole world?”

Virgil hesitated. What _was_ his favorite food? Virgil wasn’t certain that he had one. God, how embarrassing was that? He couldn’t even answer a simple question about himself, because he was just _that_ dull.

And then he remembered _one_ of his favorites, even if it wasn’t his only favorite. But it just made him shake his head.

“It doesn’t work,” he said.

“Is it edible?” asked Logan, cocking his head to one side.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Obviously,” he said. “But it’s not dinner.”

“What is it, Virgil?” asked Patton.

Virgil bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. He could do this. “Uh,” he said. “I, um. I like pancakes. But that’s breakfast, that’s not dinner, it’s stupid.”

“Breakfast for dinner!” Patton threw his hands in the air, eyes wide with excitement that slightly worried Virgil. “That’s a great idea! We can have pancakes and bacon and lots of syrup.”

“Just what Patton needs- sugar,” Logan muttered. Virgil glanced at him, and Logan’s eyebrows rose with amusement.

“Virgil, you can be on team pancakes with me,” Patton said. “Logan and Roman can do the bacon. Break!”

Virgil narrowly avoided being mowed over by Logan and Roman, who took Patton’s phrasing a bit too literally and both dove towards the fridge. Virgil turned away from their scuffling at the door to find that Patton had already set out the box of pancake mix, milk, and eggs that they would need.

“Does anyone else want chocolate chips in theirs?” he asked, setting the pan down on the stove with a sharp bang.

At Patton’s suggestion, Virgil measured ingredients into the bowl and let Patton stir. When the batter was ready Patton started to heat up the pan, and as Roman slid in next to him with a pan full of bacon, Virgil stepped back, twisting at the sleeve of his jacket.

Someone brushed against his shoulder, and Virgil bit his tongue to stop from jumping when he noted that it was just Logan coming to stand next to him. The logical side was watching Patton and Roman cook together at the stove.

“Alright?” Logan asked.

Virgil swallowed and watched Patton dip his finger quickly into the batter and lick it off. “Yeah,” he said.

He felt Logan’s gaze on him, as shrewd as ever. “You can tell me the truth, you know.”

Virgil forced his muscles to relax. His arm pressed further against Logan’s. “I’m overwhelmed,” he said. “And I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Logan nodded. “That makes sense,” he said. “And that’s alright, you know. We don’t expect you to figure everything out the first day.”

“Thank you.”

“You really do need to stop saying thank you for things that are freely given,” Logan said. Then, quick as a dart, his hand slipped into Virgil’s and gave his fingers a quick squeeze. “But you’re welcome.”

His hand was gone before Virgil could turn and look at him with surprise. Logan was staring at Roman’s shoes now. There were flecks of pink in his cheeks.

“First pancake on!” Patton said, pan sizzling as he poured the batter onto it.

“Bacon on, too!”

“It’s not a race, Roman, dear,” Logan said, reclining back against the counter.

“I quite agree, Logan, honey,” Roman said, shooting a smirk over his shoulder. “But if it were, I would be winning.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two start up another round of bickering around Patton, who was humming as he poked at the undercooked pancake with a spatula. It was comfortable. It was familiar. It was what he was used to.

Maybe he could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think below!! Thank you for all the lovely comments so far <3


	5. Chapter 5

Virgil couldn’t do this.

“What movie?” Roman asked, struggling to pull a plain white t-shirt over his head. Virgil had carefully been avoiding looking at him as he changed for the past minute or so.

“I’m tired,” Patton said. He was already wearing his flannel pajamas and lying on Roman’s bed, head tipped back against the pile of pillows. “Can we just watch an episode of Parks and Rec?”

“We still haven’t finished our episode of How It’s Made,” Logan suggested.

“No offense, Lo,” Roman said, laying his sash carefully on his desk, “but I really don’t care about how toothpaste tubes are made.”

Logan scowled. Roman smoothed out his sash carefully to get the wrinkles out and then walked over to where Logan was standing. He held his arms out with a purposefully charming smile.

“The only toothpaste tube I care about is you, my deliciously minty-”

“Don’t finish that,” Logan said, wrinkling his nose. He walked around Roman to sit primly on the bed beside Patton, who was fiddling with the remote.

Roman, unperturbed, followed him. He sat down and wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders, who rolled his eyes but didn’t move away.

“I was going to finish that sentence with darling, by the way,” Roman said. “Perfectly G-rated.”

“I think we should continue with season four,” Patton said. He twisted his head to smile at Virgil, who was still standing and staring at the bed. “Hop on up, Virgil!”

Virgil crossed his arms, letting his head drop so his bangs swept into his eyes. “Is there enough room?”

“Of course,” Roman said, sounding personally insulted. “If there wasn’t, I would simply conjure a larger mattress.” 

“You can sit wherever you want,” Patton said. “Here!” He scooted over and patted the empty space next to him on the center of the bed. “Prime real estate.”

Virgil didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to launch the group into another ‘let’s try to deal with Virgil’s issues’ session, so he shuffled forward and slowly- very slowly- crawled onto the bed and slid stiffly into the spot Patton had indicated so that he was wedged between him and Logan. 

“Wonderful.” Roman kicked his legs out and laid back, curling his bare toes as he stretched. “Shall I dim the lights?”

Virgil swallowed.

“Perhaps we should keep them on for the time being,” Logan said mildly. 

“I love this episode,” Patton said, scooching back against the pillows and hitting play on the remote. The television was mounted on the wall opposite the bed; it flickered to life, the familiar strains of the theme song filling the room. 

Logan laid down beside Roman so that Virgil was the only one left sitting up. He brought his knees up to his chest, feeling incredibly awkward, and glanced down at Patton. 

Patton’s eyes were on the television, but his arm was splayed out across the pillows in a way that clearly invited Virgil into them if he chose. He wasn’t putting any pressure on Virgil, but Virgil still felt it build between the divots of his spine. 

What if he made the wrong choice? Laid down when Patton wasn’t actually intending for that? Didn’t lay down, and upset him, and Logan and Roman, and the whole thing crashed and burned?

Roman laughed at the first joke of the episode. Virgil scrunched himself in closer, trying to keep his breathing steady.

A hand brushed his thigh- Logan. It was quick, and Logan wasn’t looking at him, but it reminded Virgil of what he had said earlier-  _ we don’t expect you to figure everything out on the first day. _

Virgil licked his lips, which had gone dry. He slowly pushed his feet out, relaxing his knees, and shifted so that he could lie down. He did it cautiously at first, core muscles straining to keep him elevated so that his hair only brushed Patton’s arm. But then Patton’s arm curled inwards, hand cupping his shoulder, and Virgil let himself carefully lay back all the way so that Patton was holding him. 

The episode played on. Virgil had already seen it multiple times, so he wasn’t too focused on trying to follow the plot. Instead he soaked in Patton’s warmth so close to him and the way that Logan’s foot had shifted so that it touched Virgil’s. He could even feel Roman’s presence on the other side of Logan, felt it every time he laughed or murmured something that made the other two laugh.

Virgil still felt like an intruder, but at least he felt safe here. Safe and warm.

He shut his eyes and let himself drift for the rest of the episode, smiling at the right moments and whenever one of the others laughed. He let his head fall so that he was curled closer against Patton.

After a while he heard the episode end. Roman yawned loudly, and then someone shifted, and then the television fell silent. 

“Time for bed,” Patton said, his voice soft, and Virgil opened his eyes. Patton was smiling down at him, a gooey expression in his eyes that Virgil wasn’t familiar with. 

He turned away and sat up.

“I can go back to my own room,” he said. “It’s- it’s the first night, you really don’t have to-”

“Do you want to go back to your own room?” Logan asked.

Virgil stared at Logan’s feet. Exhaustion was starting to tug at his eyelids. It had been a long day, and the prospect of leaving such a warm place made him shiver.

“No,” he said.

“Then you’re staying,” Patton said. “Do you want to take your hoodie off?”

Virgil tugged at his sleeve. He was wearing a t-shirt underneath, the one that he normally slept in, but the idea of removing his jacket was terrifying. He shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said.

“Really?” Roman asked. Logan glared at him, and Roman’s eyes went wide. “I only meant that he might get hot should he stay in it!”

“You can keep the temperature low,” Patton said. He sat up and tugged at the covers, pulling them down. “Crawl on in, everyone!”

Roman and Logan followed the order, and after a moment Virgil followed suit. Roman’s sheets were silk and very cold against his bare feet as he slid underneath.

“Kisses,” Patton said. He leaned forward, over Virgil, to Roman, who leaned up to kiss him briefly. Then Patton leaned down to peck Logan on the lips. Then he drew back and looked down at Virgil with a small smile and a question in his eyes.

Virgil swallowed and gave a short nod. Patton’s smile widened. He bent down, hand coming up to brush Virgil’s cheek, and then it was happening again, lips on his, and Virgil didn’t know what he was supposed to do, but Patton kept it short and sweet and pulled away after another second. 

“Goodnight, everyone!” Patton chirped.

“Goodnight, my darlings,” Roman said, clapping his hands together. The lights went out immediately, plunging them into darkness.

“Goodnight,” Logan said. 

Virgil stared up into the dark, certain that he should say something, but it caught in his throat. Instead, he allowed Patton to fold him back up into an embrace when he laid down, and shut his eyes, trying to relax.

Patton’s hands curled into the fabric of his sweatshirt, holding him tightly. Logan’s foot hooked around his ankle; his toes were cold even compared to Virgil’s. And then there were fingers in his hair, stroking it, and Virgil inhaled sharply at the sensation.

On the other side of the bed, Roman snorted.

“Shut up,” Logan said dryly. 

“Sorry,” Roman whispered.

They fell silent after that. Despite Virgil’s burning cheeks, he was glad that the fingers stayed in his hair, relaxing him further until he tipped over the edge and fell asleep.

X X X X X

Virgil’s eyes had adjusted to the dark. He was sitting up in bed, knees pulled to his chest, staring across at the wall of awards that Roman had amassed. He could only make out the shapes of their silhouettes, the ribbons and trophies and plaques from pursuits that Virgil could hardly remember. 

Someone stirred behind him. Virgil wasn’t concerned- Roman seemed to move a lot in his sleep- but he jumped when he heard someone whisper, “Virgil?”

Virgil twisted his head and squinted. Logan was sitting up slightly, facing Virgil.

“Sorry,” Virgil whispered. “Did I wake you up?”

“No,” said Logan. He sat up further, moving carefully to maneuver out of Roman’s embrace. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said. A moment of silence passed. “Insomnia.”

“Oh,” Logan said. The silhouette of his head cocked to the side. “How long have you been awake?”

“I don’t know,” said Virgil. “An hour?”

Logan hummed, resting one elbow on his knee and leaning his chin against his hand. “A symptom of anxiety. We could probably find something to help that.”  
Virgil doubted it, because he was the literal manifestation of anxiety, and that just screamed ‘chronic.’. But the late night and the timeless darkness kept Virgil calm and non confrontational. It almost felt as though he was still dreaming, so much so that he said, “Maybe.”

“We can look into it in the morning,” Logan said. “For now, you should try and sleep.”

“Alright,” Virgil said. “I will. Goodnight.”

Logan didn’t move, but he lifted his head. “You’re just going to keep sitting there, aren’t you.”

Virgil shrugged, so certain that he was dreaming that he felt almost like laughing. 

Logan sighed. Virgil felt a weight on his knee- a hand- and Logan whispered, “You really ought to try and rest a bit more.”

“Surely you know how insomnia works.”

“Yes.” Even in the darkness, Virgil thought he could see Logan’s wry smirk. “But Patton would kill me if I didn’t at least try, and he’s always listening.”

Virgil laughed, then pressed his hand over his mouth to silence himself. Both he and Logan waited with bated breaths, listening.

Roman snored sharply and shifted again so that his hand was twisted awkwardly over his head. 

“Why are you awake?” Virgil asked.

Logan’s finger was drawing circles into the knee of Virgil’s pajama pants. “It happens occasionally,” he said. “I can usually go right back to sleep.”

“Sorry to keep you up.”

“Don’t apologize.” Logan’s finger drifted, circling further up Virgil’s thigh, and Virgil couldn’t help it- he tensed. Logan’s finger stilled.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil whispered, his heart sinking, because he had been fascinated by Logan’s unreserved touch. In the daylight he  _ never  _ sought such casual affection as this.

“Don’t apologize.” Logan’s words were hardly a breath. His hand flattened so that his fingers were splayed against Virgil’s upper thigh. His shadow leaned closer, inwards, and Virgil wished that he could see his expression in the dark.

“Virgil?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Virgil’s mouth felt dry. His thigh was burning under Logan’s touch. He nodded, then realized that Logan might not be able to see him.

“Yes,” he whispered.

The mattress shifted as Logan leaned forward, closing the gap until Virgil could feel breath warm on his cheek. Logan’s free hand came up to rest gently on Virgil’s jaw line. Logan’s fingers drifted downwards, skimming the sensitive skin on his neck. Virgil tipped his head back and let his eyes slip shut, unable to muster any worry about his exposed neck. 

The fingers moved upwards again, to his chin, and guided his head back down. Virgil kept his eyes shut as Logan leaned in and pressed their lips together.

It was different than Patton’s. Patton’s kiss was warm and sweet and sloppy at times. Logan’s kiss felt calculated, but not in a cold way; Virgil felt the great care that Logan took as he leaned in, tilting his head so their lips slotted neatly together, fingers on his chin guiding him just so. 

Patton’s kiss was comfort. Logan’s was safety, precision, the feeling of handling something precious. Logan wouldn’t let Virgil fall.

There was no air left in Virgil’s lungs when Logan pulled away, even though they hadn’t been kissing for very long. His fingers were on Virgil’s jaw again. Virgil could feel Logan smiling in the darkness, but Virgil just stared at his shadow, heart thudding, because  _ oh _ , he hadn’t known that kisses could be so different.

“Oh,” he whispered.

“Are you alright?”

Virgil nodded quickly, because he was more than alright. Logan hummed, hand falling to brush Virgil’s shoulder.

“Come,” he said. “Let’s try and get some sleep.”

Virgil followed Logan down, crawling back under the covers. As he slid back in, Patton curled his legs in his sleep to press against Virgil’s. Virgil leaned into that comfort, but Logan was offering some as well- when Virgil laid down, Logan scooted closer, offering an arm out to Virgil.

Virgil accepted, letting Logan enfold him in a full body embrace that made Virgil’s heart rate quicken. If Logan noticed, he didn’t comment. 

“Logan?”

“If you attempt to thank me, I will wake Roman, and we will all have to endure his complaining for the next few hours.”

Virgil chuckled and brought one hand up, hesitantly, to lie across Logan’s waist. He felt Logan still momentarily, and then relax.

If Virgil couldn’t thank him out loud, he would try to thank him silently.

Logan leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to Virgil’s temple. “Sleep,” he whispered.

Virgil slept.

X X X X X 

“What I eat in a day!”

“Cliche,” Virgil said, kicking his legs up so he was lying sideways in the armchair. “Besides, all Thomas eats is junk food. We’d get tons of comments about how unhealthy he is.”

“Perhaps we could take this as an opportunity to explore what we  _ should  _ eat in a day,” Logan said, readjusting his glasses. “According to the USDA-”

“Fine,” Roman said. His voice was calm, but his lips twitched downwards. “Let’s do a get ready with me.”

“All Thomas does is his hair- boring.”

“I like my hair,” Thomas said with a frown, reaching up and flattening it across his forehead.

Virgil rolled his eyes. 

“Let’s do something with Joan and Talyn!” Patton said, beaming around the small group gathered in Thomas’s living room.

“They’ve been in our last three videos. People are going to start thinking we haven’t got any solo material.”

“Great,” Roman said. “Great critiques, Virgil. Perhaps you could try coming up with an idea?”

Virgil tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie. Logan, Patton, and Thomas had taken seats on the couch beside him. Roman stood in front of him, arms crossed, glaring down his sharp nose at him, and Virgil felt a flutter of discomfort. He knew how much Roman hated having his ideas shut down, and Virgil had only officially joined their relationship two days ago, so he wasn’t eager to upset Roman, but still- he couldn’t just keep his concerns to himself. That would just get Thomas in trouble.

“That’s not my job,” Virgil said. “My job is to point out flaws in preconceived plans so that we can avoid them.  _ Your  _ job is to think of ideas.”

“It’s difficult to come up with them when you keep rejecting them for no reason!”

“Alright,” Patton said, sitting up straighter on the couch as Virgil and Roman glared at each other. “Let’s all take a breather, huh?”

“I am being very clear with my reasons,” Virgil snapped. Familiar anxiety twisted at his chest. “It’s not my fault that you can’t take constructive criticism.”

“There’s a difference between constructive criticism and useless negativity!”

“Roman!” Logan said sharply.

“Useless,” Virgil said. His ears felt warm. “Glad to know what you’re  _ really _ thinking of me.”

“Oh, don’t twist my words.” Roman rolled his eyes. “Don’t do that… thing.”

“What thing?”

“We can think of a video idea tomorrow,” Thomas said. “Really, guys, it’s not a big deal.”

“What thing, Roman?” Virgil swung his legs around to plant them squarely on the ground. 

“The thing where you take one little thing and twist it into this huge personal attack-” 

“Roman!” It was Patton this time, getting to his feet with wide eyes.

“This doesn’t concern you, Patton!” said Roman.

Logan sprang to his feet as well. “Don’t take this out on him,” he snarled. Patton waved a hand at him, looking impatient.

“It’s fine, Logan. Roman- you need to cool down.”

“I am cool!” Roman’s voice was practically a shout now. “I’m perfectly cool! I’m just trying to do our job and help Thomas!”

“I really don’t need to be helped right now,” Thomas piped up. “Like. It’s really okay, guys.”

“I should leave, then.” Blood was rushing through Virgil’s body, tingling at his toes and quickening his heartbeat. He curled his fingers into the arms of the chair he was seated in. “Is that what you want? You want me to leave so you can get your job done?”

“You’re doing the thing!” Roman said, nostrils flaring.

“Of course I am!” Virgil shouted. “That’s what I do! I get anxious over stuff, it’s all that I  _ can  _ do!”

Patton turned towards him eyebrows furrowed. “Sweetie, that’s not true.”

“Yes it is! I have a very specific function and if you guys think it’s not helpful right now then you should just say it so I can get out of your way.”

“He’s finally listening,” Roman muttered, mostly to himself, but Virgil heard it and suddenly something  _ snapped _ .

“Why do you hate me?”. 

The room fell silent. Virgil’s nails were digging into the fabric of the chair, his heart was pounding, his fight or flight response was  _ begging  _ him to retreat, and he was just grateful that tears hadn’t yet jumped into his eyes.

Roman, at least, seemed to have been shocked out of his earlier  irritation. He was staring at Virgil with a slack jaw, eyes wide. “I- Virgil, I don’t-”

“I need to go.” Virgil stood up.

“Don’t,” Logan said, stepping towards him. Virgil dropped his eyes to the floor.

“No,” he said, “I need to go. I’m not- I’m not crying, I’m not having a panic attack, you guys don’t have to worry about me, but I don’t want to be in this room right now. And I don’t want to talk to anyone. So just- just respect that, alright?”

There were tears on Patton’s cheeks already. Virgil ignored them, turning away and shutting his eyes to sink back into the mindscape, bypassing the commons entirely and heading straight for his room. 

He appeared next to his bed and sank immediately onto it. He stared across at his closed door. He was surprised by how calm he was. He still wasn’t crying, or hyperventilating, or speculating on the various repercussions his outburst could have possibly caused for him. He supposed he had graduated to an even more concentrated form of anxiety. Instead of feeling anxious, he just felt numb. 

A knock on his door dragged him out of his reverie. He scowled. Couldn’t they give him any space? “Go away!” 

“Virgil, please.” The voice was so soft Virgil could barely hear it through the door. “Please,  _ please  _ let me talk to you.”

Virgil kept staring at the closed door. It didn’t open. The doorknob didn’t jiggle with the force of someone trying to get in. It stayed perfectly still.

And maybe it was a mark of how numb Virgil felt that he stood up, crossed the room, and opened it.

Roman stood on the other side. His cheeks were flushed and his face was twisted into something that spoke almost of physical pain. “Can I come in?”

Virgil stepped aside without a word. Roman hesitated, then walked in, hands clasped in front of him. Virgil shut the door behind him.

He crossed his arms and watched Roman, waiting. Roman stopped in the center of the room, then turned and looked at Virgil. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“I really would like to be alone,” Virgil said. “Can you tell me what you want to say and then leave?”

“Yes,” Roman said. “Yes, of course. I was going to leave you alone, I promise, I would have, but- but I didn’t want to risk you thinking more about what you said. Up there.”

“Overthinking, you mean,” Virgil said.

Roman winced. “Virgil, I’m- I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. It wasn’t true, I was just upset.”

“No, it’s true,” Virgil said. “I know that’s what I do. I can’t help it.”

“Virgil, please.” Roman strode forward, hands coming up as though to grip Virgil by the shoulders, and a shard of numbness splintered enough for Virgil to flinch back. Roman stopped dead, lips puckering in a horrified way. He dropped his hands.

“I say stupid stuff,” he said in a whisper, “all the time. You know that. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Virgil waited for more. Nothing else came. He crossed his arms again, trying to regain some part of that cold aloofness he had had before. “Alright,” he said. “You can go.”

“What?”

“You’ve apologized,” Virgil said. “You’ve done your part.” He waved to the door.

“No,” Roman said. When Virgil narrowed his eyes, he hurriedly said, “I haven’t apologized. I haven’t even begun to- Virgil. I have so much to apologize for. Years and years of…” Roman dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes. “God,” he said, his voice muffled. “You think I hate you.”

“You’ve been very clear on that in the past.”

“I know,” Roman said. “We have made many mistakes when it comes to you, Virgil, but I’ve by far made the most. I’ve bred an environment of hostility that I don’t think has fully dissipated even now.”

Virgil felt a spark of hurt even though he had a mantra of  _ ignore it ignore it ignore it _ running through his head. “You still feel hostile towards me?”

“No!” Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. I’m saying it wrong. I don’t mean that I still feel hostile towards you, I just think that- that perhaps… you do.”

“So you’re upset with me because you think I still hate you.”

“I got upset with you because I’ve been under a fair amount of stress recently. These past few days haven’t exactly been easy for me.”

“Right.” Nausea threatened to spill over in Virgil’s throat. He glared at Roman’s sash. “You know, if you didn’t want me in your relationship, you should have said something right away. I didn’t mean to force myself on anyone.” 

“I’m not upset that you’re in our relationship, I’m upset because I can’t figure out why you would want to be in one that includes me!” Roman heaved a breath and stomped his foot in a petulant manner. “Because I’ve never been anything but awful to you and you’ve never forgiven me for it and I understand that you’re close with Patton and Logan but I hate the thought that- that you’re forced to be with me because it’s some kind of package deal, and you’re still upset with me or uncomfortable around me and-”

“Roman, stop.”

Roman shut his mouth, head dipping so that his hair drooped over his forehead. Virgil stared at him incredulously. Roman thought that Virgil was  _ stuck  _ with him?

“I didn’t get stuck with you,” Virgil said. “You got stuck with me.”

“What?” 

“Patton and Logan invited me into the relationship when you weren’t there.”

“Virgil, we discussed you joining us countless times before that,” Roman said, eyebrows furrowed. “It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. They invited you because we all liked you. Surely you must realize that?”

He hadn’t. 

“Virgil, there is nothing about you that I’m  _ stuck  _ with.” Roman wrinkled his nose at that as though it was something distasteful. “I was- I was blind to your charms for many years simply because of my own prejudice, and I will never forgive myself for that. But in the past few months you have proven yourself to be wonderfully quick-witted and humorous and kind-”

“Stop,” Virgil said with a scowl, feeling his cheeks warm.

“No. I’m tired of you refusing to see your own merits. Virgil, I’m- I’m infatuated with you. The way you smile when you don’t want anyone to see but you simply cannot hold in your amusement any longer, your laugh, the way you can both put me in my place and make me want to melt at the knees- I have been drawn to you like a- like a moth to a light for months!”

“Flame,” Virgil muttered, ducking his head so Roman couldn’t see his face.

“What?”

“It’s moth to a flame.”

“Oh, whatever. The point is- I like you very much, Virgil. Nothing made me happier than the day you decided to give a relationship that involved me a chance. But I can’t rest happy thinking- Virgil, I need you to know how ardently I regret all those years of rude comments and alienation. What I’ve done to you is unforgivable, and if you cannot find it in your heart to forgive me, I fully understand. I fell back into familiar patterns today because I was uneasy and worried, and I truly apologize for that.”

Virgil twisted his mouth. His bangs hung low over his eyes, shielding the tears that had sprung up there from view.

This was what he had always wanted. He had dreamed about the moment that the other sides, Roman especially, would regret the way they had treated him. He had fantasized about them coming to him and begging him for forgiveness. In those fantasies, he had always turned his nose up at them and feigned superiority out of pure spite.

Now all he felt was sheer, overwhelming joy at the other aspects of Roman’s apology.

He had been silent for too long. He heard the door slowly creaking open. “I apologize for upsetting you,” Roman murmured. “I’ll leave you in peace as you asked.”

“Wait.” Virgil heard the stillness. “Shut the door.”

Roman shut the door, and waited.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Virgil reached up and swiped at his eyes with his sleeve, sniffing angrily. “You can’t just say all that at once, especially to me. I can only feel, like, one emotion at a time.”

“I’ve made you cry.” Roman sounded alarmed. Virgil peeked up to find him take a halting step forward, then freeze with wide eyes, hands hanging uselessly in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, you idiot.” Virgil sniffed again. “I’m not crying because I’m angry.”

“You’re… not?”

“I forgave you a long time ago, Princey. I mean, I never really hated you anyways. You were annoying, sure, but I understand why you did it.”

Roman’s voice grew shrill in a way that Virgil would have laughed at had it been a different situation. “There is no excuse for-!”

“I know,” said Virgil. “I know there isn’t. But I forgive you. And I don’t… I don’t want to think about any of that anymore. I’m willing to let it go if you are.”

Roman opened his mouth and hesitated, looking torn. “But… why?”

“Shit, Princey,” Virgil said. “I’m not as good with words as you are.”

“Logan calls me glib,” Roman said, his lips quirking sadly. 

“I’m not sure what that means, but it sounds about right,” Virgil said. “But still, I- I feel the same way about you. I mean about all that… mushy stuff. You’re- you make me laugh, and you’re fun to debate with, and you’re charming and brave and all that. I mean- I don’t know. I like you, too. I guess.”

“You do?” Even Roman’s hair seemed to perk up. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Yes, stupid.”

“Oh.” Roman looked uncertain. It was an unfamiliar look to see on him. “That’s… a relief. I really do like you, Virgil. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, then… perhaps we could really give this relationship a try? I mean, the ‘us’ part of it.”

Virgil swallowed, more tears welling up in his eyes. He dropped his head into his hands to hide it, humiliated, and heard footsteps fast approaching him.

“Oh, no, Virgil, here.” There were arms around his shoulders, and Virgil let his head fall forward so his forehead was resting in the crook of Roman’s neck. When he spoke, Virgil felt his vocal cords moving. “I do hope that this is an emotional yes and not a very embarrassing-for-me no.”

“Of course it’s a yes you absolute- you stupid-” Virgil said into Roman’s chest, breaking off when his shoulders hiccuped with a sob. Roman made a shushing noise and pulled him closer, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. 

“Well, I’m sorry, but the crying kind of threw me off.” 

Virgil pulled away, tilting his head up to look Roman in the eye. He looked concerned, but there was a pleased set to his lips that drew Virgil’s attention, and a burst of residual bravery from Roman’s words had him saying- “Can I kiss you?”

Roman’s brow softened with surprise. He opened his mouth as though to say something, then seemed to change his mind. He smiled, and cocked his head to the side, and leaned forward slow enough that Virgil had time to close his eyes and lift his head to meet him.

Virgil was more accustomed to the sensation of soft lips on his by now. He brought his hands up to curl into the fabric of Roman’s sash, steadying both of them as they moved their lips together, and Virgil was even bold enough to push forward a tiny bit and was rewarded by Roman opening his lips further with a soft moan that sent tingles throughout Virgil. Roman’s hands roamed Virgil’s back before coming to a rest on his hips.

Roman took a step forward, and then another, prompting Virgil backwards until his knees hit the edge of his bed. They fell backwards, coming apart at the lips for a moment. Virgil took several deep breaths, lying on his back with one hand caught beneath Roman’s weight, and then Roman had rolled over and was kissing him again. 

“Virgil,” he breathed against Virgil’s lips. “You’re so lovely.”

Virgil kissed him back without knowing how to articulate that it was Roman who was the lovely one, that his kisses were more passionate than anything Virgil had experienced before and it was such an intoxicating feeling that Virgil felt half drunk on it.

Roman’s hands had found their place on Virgil’s waist again and he had just fastened his lips to the sensitive patch of skin underneath Virgil’s jaw that made him close his eyes in pleasure when a knock on the door made them both jump. 

“This is my obligatory check in,” Logan’s voice said on the other side of the door. “Patton is fussing even though I assured him that you two would be discussing this civilly. Am I correct?”

Roman blinked down at Virgil, his bangs fanned out in front of his eyes. Roman’s cheeks were bright pink, and Virgil smiled as he reached up and brushed a piece of hair behind Roman’s ear. He watched Roman swallow.

“Yes, Logan,” he called, his voice surprisingly level. “I promise that we are being very civil.”

“Good,” Logan said. 

They waited until Logan’s footsteps had completely faded in the hallway, and then looked again at one another. It only took a few seconds of silence before they were both laughing. 

Roman rolled off of him so that he was lying on his back as well, so close that their shoulders were touching, and they took a moment to catch their breath.

“Civil,” Virgil repeated.

Roman snorted and reached down to grab Virgil’s hand. He threaded their fingers together and gave them a quick squeeze. “Yes,” he said. “I quite like it.”

Virgil stared up at the ceiling, feeling a small on his lips. “Yes,” he said. “I do, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all of your comments. They really inspire me to keep going, so I appreciate each one <3 Have a fantastic day!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: panic attacks and mild self harm.

“I need a five letter word for ‘a symbol of strength,’” Logan said, tapping his pen lightly against the newspaper.

Roman looked up from Patton’s hair, which he had been carefully braiding for the last fifteen minutes. Virgil saw his lips purse as he thought it over, and then his expression brightened. “Roman!” he said.

Logan rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Family!” Patton said, blinking beneath the dozens of tiny braids Roman had woven into his bangs.

“That’s six letters, Patton.”

“But it’s so nice. Can’t you make it fit?”

To spare Logan from having to answer, Virgil leaned across the coffee table, glanced at the puzzle, and said, “It’s crown.”

Logan looked down at the paper. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he touched his pen to the paper to write it in. “Thank you for your competency, Virgil.”

“Did you hear that, Pat?” Roman asked, tying off another tiny braid into Patton’s hair. It looked as though he had tiny horns sprouting all over his head. “I think Specs just called us incompetent.”

“Oh, he doesn’t think that. He just likes his puzzles, right, Lo?” Patton reached out with one cat sock clad foot and nudged Logan’s knee. Logan raised his eyebrows, but there was enough of a smile on his face that he didn’t have to answer.

“Ta da!” Roman lifted his hands from Patton’s head. He flicked his wrist and an ornate silver mirror appeared in his hand. “Take a look at your new _do_ , my dude.”

Patton grabbed the mirror with both hands and held it up too close to his face to be able to see his hair properly. “Oh, Roman, it’s lovely!” he said, twisting his head to try and look at the back.

“Not as lovely as you are, my dear,” Roman said, swooping down to press a kiss to Patton’s cheek. Patton giggled and handed the mirror back.

“What was the site of the 2004 Olympics?” Logan looked up from his crossword, blinking around at them. “Anyone remember?”

“Virgil, might I have the honor of doing your hair now?” Roman asked.

Virgil looked up from his phone. Patton had already gotten up and crawled onto the couch next to Logan, who switched his pen to the other hand so as to offer his right one for holding. Roman was sitting in Virgil’s usual armchair, his expression expectant.

Virgil hesitated, thumb hovering over the Tumblr app on his phone. He and Roman hadn’t had any time by themselves since they had kissed a few days ago (a memory that still brought a flush to Virgil’s face) but there had been an obvious shift in their interactions that Virgil found obscenely pleasant. Roman was trying, harder than ever, and Virgil was grateful for it.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, unable to turn the prince down when his face looked so hopeful. He closed his phone, shoved it into the pocket of his hoodie, and stood.

“Cats fits there,” Patton said as Virgil rounded the coffee table.

“That doesn’t remotely fit the clue, Patton.” There was a pause in which Virgil could visualize the look Patton had on his face before Logan sighed. “Alright, cats for twenty down.”

Virgil carefully sat down on the floor in front of the armchair in the same place that Patton had been. He pressed back against the fabric, heart doing a flip when he felt Roman’s knees on either side of him, brushing lightly against his shoulders.

“Let’s see,” Roman’s voice said above him, and Virgil tried not to flinch when fingers touched the top of his head. “What can I do for you today, cutie?”

Virgil scowled through his blush and made a noncommittal grunting noise, raising his shoulders in a half shrug.

“Your hair is a little longer than Patton’s,” Roman said, running his fingers through it, and Virgil curled his fingers to resist tilting his head to follow his touch. “I could do some wonderful braiding, if you would like?”

Virgil just hummed in response, letting his eyes slip shut as Roman swept his fingers through his hair once more, pausing to scratch gently at the nape of his neck, and Virgil couldn’t help but let out a soft, embarrassing sigh at how _wonderful_ that felt.

Roman chuckled above him, but there wasn’t any malice in it. “You like that?” he murmured, letting his fingers trace the curve of Virgil’s ear, and Virgil bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep from sighing again.

Roman’s hands fell to Virgil’s shoulders, heavy and warm, and Virgil felt the armchair cushion shift behind his back as Roman leaned down to whisper in Virgil’s ear, his lips so close Virgil could feel them moving.

“Relax,” Roman said.

Virgil swallowed, eyes still shut. He felt Roman press a gentle kiss to his temple, one that made his stomach flip, before he sat up again and returned his hands to Virgil’s head.

“Athens!” Logan’s voice said, triumphant. “The 2004 Olympics were in Athens.”

Roman’s fingers twisted in Virgil’s hair, sectioning off a part of it, and he felt a tugging sensation that told him Roman had begun to braid, and oh, it felt so good, Virgil would never grow tired of people playing with his hair.

They continued that way, Roman braiding quietly, Virgil tipping his head back to soak in every touch that he was given, Logan and Patton chatting idly about the crossword puzzle on the sofa. It all felt so good- under Roman’s steady hands Virgil felt his entire body relaxing, the tension falling from his shoulders, his mind fixated on nothing but the press of Roman’s knees on either side of him, his fingers in his hair, Logan and Patton so close and peaceful. Virgil was nearly unconscious of the smile that was spreading across his face, but when he noticed it he didn’t bother trying to wipe it away again. It felt _good_ to smile, to tilt his head so that Roman could work on the other side of his hair, to listen to Patton encouraging Logan, and Virgil realized with a pang that he was happy.

He, Virgil- _Anxiety_ \- was happy.

Roman ran his thumb down Virgil’s neck, then said, “Alright, darling.” Virgil opened his eyes, blinking in the light, and reached for the mirror that Roman was holding out to him.

He looked at himself. Roman had woven tiny braids all throughout his hair in a way that was as artful as it was absurd, and although it was never a hairstyle Virgil could actually wear, he could see the almost medieval inspiration behind it. Virgil tilted the mirror, his eyes moving from his hair to his lips, to the way they quirked up at the corners. He almost didn’t recognize himself.

“Do you like it?”

Roman’s eyes, reflected in the mirror above Virgil, were almost anxious. Virgil met them with his own gaze and smiled wider.

“Yes,” he said. He set the mirror down beside him and turned, sitting up on his knees so that he was facing Roman. When he placed his hands shyly on Roman’s knees, Roman’s eyes dropped to them, his lips slightly parted in surprise. “It’s wonderful,” Virgil said, and, off a burst of courage, leaned forward so that he could catch Roman’s lips with his own. Roman made a soft noise underneath him, one hand coming up to cup Virgil’s jaw, leaning back so that Virgil could take the lead. He had done that every time they had kissed so far, given Virgil enough space and time to explore and make his own moves, present and aware and matching every choice Virgil made with unreserved passion, and Virgil felt his own confidence growing every time he moved his mouth in a way that made Roman moan beneath him. Roman’s kisses, Virgil had learned, were an expedition into possibility, a chance for Virgil to test the waters of this newfound territory, buffeted by Roman’s romantic zeal always encouraging him forward. Roman’s kisses were strength and passion, and they made Virgil’s heart soar.

When they parted, Roman was smiling. He brushed his thumb along Virgil’s cheekbone, his touch gentle. “Well,” he said, his voice teasing, “if that’s what I get every time I do your hair, I may just have to become your personal stylist.”

Virgil grinned and pushed his shoulder, rolling his eyes. Behind him, Patton squealed as Logan said, “Oh, my god. The answer _is_ cats.”

X X X X X

It was stupid.

They had been doing a new Q&A, and Virgil hadn’t even been doing a lot of work, leaving Roman to field most of the questions with a grandeur that made Virgil smile when the camera wasn’t turned on him. And then Thomas had said- “Alright, this is for everyone. What’s the last dream that you guys had?”

“Oh!” Patton raised his hand, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I had a dream that I lived in the forest with a bunch of animal friends, and we baked a really nice apple pie.”

“So you were Snow White?” Roman asked.

Patton tapped the side of his nose with a grin. “Oh, you are Snow _Right_ about that one.”

“Dear lord,” Logan murmured.

“What about you, Logan?” Thomas asked.

“Oh, I had one of my usual dreams,” Logan said, crossing his arms. “I was walking through a museum looking at various interpretations of modern art and critiquing them because they lack any sort of refinement or technical-”

“I dreamt that I was fighting a dragon!” Roman raised his hand as though he was holding a sword, teeth almost gleaming as he smiled. “I had to battle my way through to save the beautiful prince on the other side.” He winked at Patton, who pressed his hand to his mouth and giggled.

“That makes sense,” Thomas said. His eyes swiveled to Virgil, who resisted the urge to hunch in on himself. “Virgil?”

Virgil bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Normally Virgil didn’t remember his dreams, but he remembered the one that he had had last night, or at least pieces of it- running in the dark, voices whispering insults around him, his heart racing and his eyes burning and his lungs-

“I don’t dream,” Virgil said, because he had been quiet too long and he felt Logan frowning at him. Virgil stared resolutely at Thomas, quirking an eyebrow up, trying to look disinterested.

“At all?” Thomas looked surprised, and Virgil shrugged.

“Nah,” he said. “Dreams aren’t really on brand for me.” And then, because everyone was looking at him and no one was saying anything and the camera was still rolling and someone needed to say something before the mic picked up Virgil’s pounding heart, he said, “Ask me about my fears sometime, though.”

“Maybe there’ll be a question about that later,” Thomas said with a pleasant grin, and he glanced back at his phone for the next question. Virgil shoved his hands in the pockets and feigned curiosity as he listened to the next question, carefully not looking at any of the others.

It had been a weird answer, and he knew it, because the other three knew that he dreamed, they had helped him through one of his nightmares before, but Virgil couldn’t think of anything else to say on camera. It wasn’t a lie- Virgil _didn’t_ dream. He could count the number of pleasant dreams he had on one hand. More often than not Virgil had intense nightmares and unsettling visions while he slept, but there was no way he was going to admit to that out loud.

The audience would be able to guess it from his answer, though, Virgil was sure of it. They would all be able to tell that he was lying. It wasn’t a surprise that Virgil- the embodiment of anxiety, of _fear_ \- would have nothing but nightmares while he rested. Everyone’s answers made sense. Patton dreamt of whimsical pleasantries, Logan of idle critiques, Roman of adventuring, and Virgil- the stuff of horror films. They were all very fitting. They all made sense, and Virgil realized with an unpleasant jolt that the other three went through their days and nights with nothing but happiness while Virgil would always have nightmares, always have _pounding heart cheeks wet with pathetic tears chest aching as he hyperventilates hyperventilates-_

“Alright, I think that’s going to wrap it up for this Q&A. Thank you as always to the lovely sides for joining us, and until next time- take it easy guys, gals, and nonbinary pals.” Thomas winked at the camera. “Peace out!”

Virgil stared as Thomas stepped forward to turn off the camera, feeling his head beginning to swim with a swirl of familiar panic. He tried to swallow it down, tensing his shoulders and trying for a long, slow breath.

“Virgil?”

It was Patton walking towards him, frowning, looking so concerned. Patton who dreamt of nothing but kind animals and baking. His hand reached out for Virgil’s, but if he touched him- if Patton touched him maybe the nightmares would transfer, maybe- Virgil took a step away, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling the pressure of an attack building in his ears even as Patton’s eyes widened with hurt and concern.

Virgil needed to leave.

“I’m tired,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to the ground. “Uh- see ya later, Thomas.”

“Virgil,” Roman said in protest, but Virgil closed his eyes and let the ground evaporate under his feet, felt himself sink down and disappear.

When he opened his eyes he was in his room. He stared at his unmade bed. He hadn’t slept in it in days, choosing instead to inhabit Roman’s room with the rest of the sides, and his own space looked foreign to him. He realized, not for the first time, how dim his room was, even with the lamp shining in the corner. Everything was sparsely decorated in dark hues, with none of the flair of Roman’s room, or the minimalist perfection of Logan’s, or the comfort of Patton’s. No one came into Virgil’s room, even though they all spent time in each other’s spaces now. Of course they didn’t want to spend time in Virgil’s corner of the mind. As he stood there, staring around at it all, he could feel the unpleasant anxiety beginning to crawl up his spine.

Virgil reached up and grabbed at his hair, and it felt nothing like Roman’s careful braiding. He pulled hard, feeling pain, trying to ground himself to it even as he felt his chest heaving.

“Stop it,” he muttered, ashamed when his voice cracked pathetically. He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a hitched breath. “Stop it stop it _stop it_ , Virgil.”

He did this too much, he panicked too much, wasn’t he supposed to be getting better? He knew they all thought that, knew it from the way they smiled at each other every time he opened up a bit more, relaxed a bit more. They thought he was getting stronger, healthier, healing, and he wasn’t, he wasn’t at all, panic was clawing at his throat as his mind twisted around the image of them smiling proudly at his successes. “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” he muttered to himself.

He wished that there were someone there to slap him, to drive this all-consuming weakness out of him.

He wasn’t surprised at the knock on his door. “Virgil?” It was Patton, concerned, and of course he was, they were always concerned about Virgil, they always would be because he wasn’t going to get better, wasn’t going to stop panicking over nothing at all, not even their care for him could drive that away. “Virgil, sweetie, will you open the door?”

Virgil shook his head, clamping his hands over his ears. His legs were trembling, and out of fear of falling Virgil let himself sink to his knees. He needed to stop it, the others would worry about him unnecessarily, they were always worrying about him, he couldn’t make a scene, he had to _stop it stop it stop_ -

Another knock on his door, sharper this time. “Virgil,” said Logan, “we just want to know that you’re alright.”

He shook his head again, but he had to say something, had to ease their worries so that they would leave and he could deal with this alone and they wouldn’t have to get involved again, swoop in to save him again. He braced himself and said, “I’m fine,” and was irritated to find that it came out low, layered, more like a growl than anything else.

“The door’s not locked,” he heard Roman say, and then- “Virgil, we’re coming in.”

Before Virgil could do anything to stop it, his door was opening. He let out a low, embarrassed moan, hunching over himself so that he wouldn’t have to look at them, wouldn’t have to see the dismay on their faces that he was in this state _again_ , that he was panicking _again_ , that he wasn’t doing as well as they all thought he’d been.

“Oh,” he heard Patton say, and then he was there, on his knees in front of Virgil. “Oh, honey, Virgil, darling-”

“Perhaps you should guide him through those exercises once more,” Roman muttered, probably to Logan, and Virgil shook his head again.

“No,” he said, gasping through his panic. He didn’t want Logan to have to hold his hand and walk him through an attack every time he broke down like this. He didn’t want them here right now, staring at him with so much pity and worry that it made him feel like throwing up.

“No,” he said again, clutching at his midsection and forcing his head up so that he could see them. Roman and Logan were standing there, expressions matching in hesitation, and Patton was on his knees in front of Virgil. Virgil could see the tears welling up in Patton’s eyes. He had made him cry again.

This needed to stop.

“I’m fine,” Virgil said, aware that his voice was still layered with panic. Patton leaned forward, one hand reaching out as an offering, but Virgil waved it away. “I’m fine, this is stupid, I’m being stupid, I’m stupid-”

“You’re not stupid,” Roman said.

“Yes, I am. I’m- I’m fine, this will stop in a second, I just need to-”

Virgil dropped his head again, braced his hands on the ground, and stood. His head swam sickeningly and dark spots were encroaching upon his vision (probably because he wasn’t breathing, he was just beginning to register that his chest seemed stuck), but he managed to stay standing.

“Virgil,” Logan said, a warning in his voice, but Virgil turned his back on them and stared hard at the corner of his room, trying to focus on it as he struggled to grasp at air.

For a few moments the room was silent except for the pathetic sound of Virgil gasping for air. He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched at his forearms beneath his sleeves, digging his nails into the soft skin there, trying to ground himself to the sting. He bit his lip as he pressed down, feeling sharp spikes of pain.

“Virgil,” said Roman behind him. “Will you let us help you?”

Virgil shook his head without turning around. “I’m fine,” he said. “I told you, I’m being stupid.”

“Emotions aren’t stupid, Virgil,” said Patton.

“These aren’t emotions.” Virgil pressed harder with his nails as he felt his heartbeat quickening even more. “These aren’t- I can’t stop this.”

“That’s alright,” said Patton.

“No!” Virgil’s voice came out low and gruff and demonic, and he could almost see Patton recoiling in his head. He curled his fingers enough to scratch, wishing he could claw himself apart so this would stop, so he would stop scaring them and worrying them like he always did.

“No,” he said, “I’m always going to- always going to panic and make the worst out of everything, even when things are going good, even when I should be- be- I’m never going to get better, I’m always going to have nightmares instead of dreams, I’m not like you guys, I’m too much work, you should just- just go away, please just go away-”

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch away and whirl around. Patton was standing there, eyes wide and full of unshed tears but his jaw set in a way Virgil had never seen before. He met Virgil’s gaze, eyes bright behind his glasses, and then reached out.

It took Virgil a moment to realize that Patton was asking for his arms. Slowly- shamefully- Virgil released his grip and uncrossed them. He watched as Patton carefully pushed the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows to reveal a series of small bloodied crescent-shaped scratches where Virgil had dug his nails in. Virgil stared at them, at his own blood, felt the other three staring at them as well, and felt his head rush with a wave of cold that made him dizzy.

“Here we are,” said a voice in his ear, and Virgil blinked himself back into awareness. He was sitting on his bed, half-slumped against the person holding him up, and there were hands on his wrist keeping his arms stretched out. His chest was still heaving as he looked to see Logan kneeling in front of him, dabbing at the blood with something red- Roman’s sash- with a very grim expression. Virgil tilted his head to see that it was Roman with his arm wrapped around him, keeping him upright.

This was ridiculous. Virgil had been trying to get them to leave, and here they were, fussing over him. Virgil yanked his arms away from Logan, who looked up in surprise.

“I’m fine,” Virgil said, pleased when his words were actually intelligible. He suddenly felt ridiculously tired, and although the steady weight of Roman pressed against him was comforting, he wished that they would go away. “You guys should leave.”

“We aren’t going to leave,” said Patton, his voice firm. He was sitting on the bed on the other side of Virgil, and Virgil was grateful that his tears appeared to have dried.

“There’s nothing that you guys can do.” Virgil reached up and rubbed at his eyes, thinking how badly his makeup had probably smudged.

“We can try and talk you through it, if you’d like,” said Roman. He dropped his arm to curl around Virgil’s waist, and Virgil repressed a shiver at the gentle brush of Roman’s fingers on his hip.

“Nothing to talk about,” Virgil muttered. “I’m being stupid.”

“You are not,” Logan said. He was still holding Roman’s wrinkled sash, and although he looked a little bit awkward, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself, he was staring at Virgil resolutely. “We can work through this. You mentioned having nightmares- was this attack the result of the video we just filmed?”  
When Virgil just hunched farther over in on himself, Patton said, “Darling, I’m sorry about your nightmares, but they’re perfectly natural. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“But there is,” Virgil said, trying to sound scathing. Instead, he just sounded exhausted. “You all have- have good dreams, pleasant ones. All I have are nightmares, and that’s never going to stop. This is never going to stop, and if you stay in a relationship with me you’ll just keep winding up here, trying to help me when I’m never going to get better and none of you deserve that and-”

“Virgil,” Logan said, interceding as Virgil’s breathing began to quicken again. “Are you saying that you would like to break up with us?”

Virgil felt something physically tear in his chest at the thought, and he closed his eyes against the stem of pain it caused. _Oh, god, never, he could never survive that._

“No,” he said, his voice hardly above a whisper, “but I want to give you the chance to break up with me, if you want it.”

He felt Roman’s grip on him loosen, and he bit down on his tongue to hold back a sob.

They were thinking about it.

“It’s okay,” he said, staring at the little scratches on his arms, the smeared blood that Logan had tried to clean off. “I’ll be fine, it’s okay.”

“Yes, you will be fine,” Patton said. Virgil blinked as his hand snaked out and slid into Virgil’s, intertwining their fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Because we are _not_ breaking up with you, Virgil Sanders.”

“Never,” said Roman, pressing against Virgil’s side in reassurance.

Virgil could have groaned at their optimism. He looked up at Logan, who would be able to think about this logically, who was already watching him, waiting for Virgil to speak. “This won’t work,” Virgil whispered. “You- you guys have been trying so hard, but you can’t fix me. I’m Anxiety, I’m always going to be Anxiety.”

“It seems that you have a very skewed perception of our goals,” Logan said, reaching up to straighten his glasses. “You seem to think that we entered into a relationship with you in the hopes that we would be able to- pardon me, but in your words- fix you. Is that correct?”

“But I’m telling you that you can’t,” Virgil said, hoping that Logan would see what the others couldn’t, would understand that no amount of affection could stop Virgil from panicking at the drop of a hat. “You can’t fix me.”

“Yes, you said that,” Logan said. “That is, however, completely beside the point. We have no such interest in fixing you, as you are explaining it. We did not begin this relationship in an attempt to fix you. We began it because we are in love you.”

Virgil’s heart stopped. He stared in open bewilderment at Logan, who simply raised his eyebrows in response. Logan had never said that before, never said that word about him, none of them had despite Virgil’s understanding that they all loved _each other_. But he was new to the relationship, different, it was far too soon for them to feel anything of that strength towards him.

“Y-you-?”

“Virgil,” Patton murmured, and Virgil twisted his head to see that Patton was smiling. He held his breath as Patton raised his hands to cup Virgil’s face, looking at him as though Virgil was made of all the stars in the sky. “Virgil,” he repeated, and then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you,” he whispered.

There was a hand brushing through his hair, and he turned his head when Patton released him to be greeted by Roman’s brilliant smile, the sparkle in his eye as he regarded Virgil as though he were something precious. “Darling Virgil,” he said, running his thumb along the nape of his neck, “we love you so much.”

Virgil knew that there were tears in his eyes. He shook his head, his mind telling him not to believe it, that they were lying, but- why would they lie about this?

Someone had taken his hand again, and Virgil looked down to see Logan smiling up at him. As he watched, Logan bent forward and pressed his lips to his wrist, precisely at his pulse point, and Virgil couldn’t help but let out a sob.

“Oh, honey,” Patton said, winding his arms around Virgil’s waist and leaning in to pepper his cheek with light kisses. On his other side Roman leaned closer, pushing his fingers through Virgil’s hair and whispering various terms of endearment as though it were a monologue, and all the while Logan kept hold of his hand, thumb running over the bumps of Virgil’s knuckles in a way meant to soothe.

“We don’t want to fix you,” he said, taking Virgil’s other hand as well. “There’s nothing to fix.”

“We want you to be happy,” Roman said as Patton nuzzled his nose into Virgil’s neck. “But we understand that it is sometimes difficult for you. It’s not your fault, it’s never your fault, and we will never blame you for it.”

“But-” Virgil choked on a sob, feeling wetness on his cheeks, and Patton leaned in again to kiss a tear off of his jaw. “But it’s too much to deal with.”

“You’re worth it,” Patton said, squeezing Virgil with both arms. “You’re worth it, Virgil, you’re always worth it, do you understand me?”

Virgil just sobbed again. Patton took Virgil’s chin gently and turned his head to look at him, eyes wide and tender. “You’re worth it,” he said. “Do you understand?”

And Virgil nodded, and cried harder, and Patton leaned forward and pressed his lips to Virgil’s in what must have been the sloppiest kiss of all time. But it felt wonderful, and Logan was kissing his wrist again, and Roman was pressed up behind him and encircling all of them with his arms and still murmuring, “Darling, darling, dearest,” in Virgil’s ear, and Virgil felt so overwhelmed with affection that he thought he might explode.

He loved them. He loved them all so much. He was crying too hard to say it, but he didn’t mind, because he would tell them later. He would tell all of them later, separately, together, in his own time, because he had plenty of it.

They had plenty of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe that that brings this story to an end! Thank you all so so much for reading, and I hope that you all enjoyed it. I appreciate all of your wonderful comments immensely.
> 
> Also, just want to let you all know that I'm working on a new Sanders Sides fic that will be a much bigger project than this one, but hopefully should be popping up within the next few days! Make sure to check in if you want to take a look- I'd really appreciate it!
> 
> Thank you all again, from the bottom of my heart. Until next time- peace out, y'all!


End file.
